ATF 14: Death Takes A Holiday
by retirw
Summary: There's nothing easy about getting home from Cascade. There's some of The Sentinel in this one too. This starts just after ATF 13: Lost and Found
1. Chapter 1

**THIS IS NOT A DEATH FIC THIS IS NOT A DEATH FIC THIS IS NOT A DEATH FIC THIS IS NOT A DEATH FIC**

This is a cross over with Highlander/Mag 7/ The Sentinel. As if the seven didn't keep me busy enough. None of these boys belong to me. I haven't figured out how to make money off them unfortunately.

//If the words are between the backslashes it's projected thoughts telepathy or a close cousin.// _If they are in itallics they're thoughts._

* * *

**Death takes a Holiday**

**Dawn Monday**

"'A vacation' he said." Adam Pierson, a.k.a. Methos, the oldest living immortal, wrapped his jacket more tightly around himself to ward off the cold. "A vacation has sunshine, indoor plumbing and hot water. Only MacLeod would consider an island in the back-of-no-where a vacation. I know I've seen enough of the back-of-no-where to recognize it. **I don't care if it is June it's freezing out here at night**." Methos raised his voice as his rant ran down.

With a put upon sigh and a pout Methos watched his friend Duncan MacLeod and his kinsman Connor MacLeod sitting drinking by the bonfire. _Nothing can be worse than freezing my ass off watching two morose, drunken Scotsmen recount the good old days . . . . They wouldn't. _Methos stiffened as Connor stumbled over and pulled something from the bundle he had brought down previously. _By all the Gods, NO! Haven't I suffered enough? I've known for centuries what a Scotsman wears under his kilt without having to suffer through the drunken exhibition of these two and now __**bagpipes**__. _Methos whimpered pitifully. _I'm going to have to kill them. I don't care if it is Connor's 483rd Birthday. _Methos' fingers lovingly stroked the hilt of his broadsword. "Maybe if I get drunk enough," Pierson snagged the bottle of scotch as Duncan cavorted by flashing the disgruntled man once more. _At least they haven't painted each other blue yet. _

The merry making came to an abrupt halt as the sounds of a laboring engine came to their attention.

"That'sh nay goood." Duncan struggled to keep his eyes focused on the low flying plane. Raising his hand to shield his eyes from the rising sun he watched as it flew in a crippled circle.

"It's going into the lake." Methos lurched to his feet unsteadily.

The trio watched in horror as the twin engine plane skipped across the water before coming to a halt and immediately began sinking beneath the surface.

"There." Connor pointed losing his belt he dropped the kilt to the pebbles and began to wade out, closely followed by Duncan. Throwing his hands up over his head Methos shook off his jacket and stomped down the beach and out into the frigid water.

"Three," Connor called back in an amazingly sober tone. Immediately he swam toward the bobbing heads.

"Let's get you to shore," Duncan said to the shaking black man as he helped support the unconscious man the survivor was towing.

"That'd be g-g-g-good," the man answered his teeth chattering violently.

"How many of you are there?" Methos asked as he swam by.

"Six, only six. Chris and Buck went after Ezra," Nathan said in a shaken tone.

"Damn," Methos whispered. _Mortals throwing themselves into harm's way. Most likely three dead instead of one. _

"They were both Navy SEALs," The burly man grunted as he paddled past using one arm.

"A chance they have then," Connor admitted. "How badly are you hurt?" he demanded as he swam up beside the injured man.

"Bruised but unbroken. I can get to shore on my own," Josiah assured his rescuer. Rolling to his back he began to kick determinedly as he searched the waters desperately. "There! Thank you God," Sanchez smiled widely.

"Are you sure you can make the shore on your own?" Connor demanded watching the three bobbing heads further out.

"Yes, go help them please." Josiah urged.

Connor began to swim strongly toward the tiring men, closely followed by Methos.

The exhausted pair were treading water while giving the third man CPR.

"Let us," Methos urged gently taking over the chest compressions from the light haired man. An exhausted nod was the only response. Connor began to tow the limp body back to the shore while the others continued CPR.

Duncan carried the barely conscious man up to the fire and gently lay him down. Nathan stumbled along behind and dropped down beside the still form. Jackson's gentle fingers brushed back the wet hair and examined the gash along JD's hair line. Duncan laid one of the plaids down beside the pair before hurrying down to help Josiah up the beach.

"This isn't bad, you'll be fine once we get you warmed up," Nathan sighed in relief. Carefully he began stripping the wet clothes off and wrapped JD in the heavy wool tartan. JD blinked drunkenly but tried to help.

Josiah sat down with a tired thump beside JD cradling his arm protectively. The lost look on the man's face kept drawing Nathan's troubled gaze.

"Josiah?" Nathan reached over and shook the other man slightly.

"I couldn't hold him." Josiah stared at his hands opening and closing his fists. "They look so strong don't they? I couldn't hold him," Sanchez whispered. Tears ran unchecked down his face.

"Vin!" JD turned his head against Josiah's thigh and sobbed brokenly.

_A friend lost. _Duncan sighed before heading down to the water once more. Wading out he wrapped an arm around one of the wavering strangers and urged him on towards the fire. Connor swung the limp body up in his arms and hurried toward the blazing fire. Methos slid his shoulder under the third stranger's arm and all but carried him up the beach.

Stumbling, Connor almost dropped his precious burden falling to his knees with an abrupt jerk. Water spewed from the semi-conscious body's mouth and the limp man began to cough and gag.

Nathan worriedly examined the other man before sitting back with a grin. "I suppose swimming to shore on your own would have been too much like manual labor to suit you, Ezra?"

Ezra continued to cough and gag for several minutes while they stripped him and wrapped him in the other tartan.

"Mistah . . . Jackson . . . have you . . . any concept . . . how wool . . . against mah . . . bare skin . . . will irritate me?" Ezra wheezed.

"I'd have figured these Wilmington lips would have sweetened that prickly disposition more than that," Buck teased, yet the dark blue eyes were filled with loss. "Damn glad you decided to hang around, Ez."

"You let him . . . Mr. Jackson, please tell me his shots are up to date!" Ezra scowled but his eyes were warm as he pretended to strike the smirking Wilmington. Suddenly the Southerner's facade crumbled revealing how devastated he was. Buck's big arms wrapped around the smaller man while he cried heartbrokenly on his shoulder.

Chris moved silently among his men. A shaking hand rested briefly on each head as he made his round. "Nate?" Larabee stood protectively over his team.

"I'll feel better once Josiah, JD, and Ezra are checked out at a hospital. Except for needing warming up they aren't bad." Nathan reported.

"Let's get you up to the cabin," Duncan urged calmly. "Some hot tea and warm blankets should warm you up in no time."

"Need to use your phone," Chris said as he began to adjust.

"Nearest working phone is 45 minutes by canoe. Cell phones don't have service out here. I'm sorry but I don't have a radio." Duncan said.

"Secure the team, then go for assistance," Buck muttered blankly, falling back on his military training.

"You have a cabin?" Chris straightened.

"Aye, will you allow us to carry your friends up?" Duncan asked quietly.

Larabee frowned for a moment then nodded.

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The three immortals did their best to make their unexpected guests comfortable. Duncan frowned as he noted that Connor was effectively managing to stay away from the mortals by retrieving soaked clothing from the beach and any number of necessary but distant tasks.

"Connor?" Duncan demanded as the other man dumped a pile of sodden clothing onto the porch.

"The dark haired youngster. His name is Johnnie Dunne. A fine lad. He used to do odd jobs for me when I would go to Boston. His mother was a maid at the hotel I frequented." Connor sighed.

"Oh," Duncan winced.

"Worse. I died," Connor growled.

"A kinsman who looks much alike," Duncan suggested a common explanation.

"No good. He's a friendly lad and we talked often. He knows 'Graham Nash' had no family. I died in front of him . . . very messily." Connor grunted.

"Well then you better be the one that goes for help," Duncan said patting Connor's shoulder.

"I paid for the boy's schooling though he knows it not." Connor admitted.

"I'll watch over him for you, kinsman." Duncan promised.

"Thank you, Duncan. He's a bonny Laddie," Connor said.

Duncan looked through the window at the six huddled men. "They've lost a friend this night."

"Aye, that they have." Connor agreed.

The two men watched as Methos carried over a tray full of coffee cups. Respectfully he moved away leaving the men to grieve in peace. Silently he slipped out the door to join the MacLeods.

"You look as if you've seen a ghost," Connor huffed.

Methos grasped the porch rail and shivered. "All you can do is spread your wings and flee the coming storm." The eldest whispered.

"Methos?" Duncan questioned.

"A thing of legends, MacLeod," Methos hissed. "That is a hunting pack."

"God have mercy. The Wild Hunt," Connor paled.

"A fairy tale," Duncan protested looking back and fourth between the older pair.

"Ramirez told me of the Hunters. It was less than a generation after a watchman until my birth. There were many stories of a hunting pack from the beginning of the MacLeods." Connor said seriously.

"I've seen two," Methos rocked on the balls of his feet nervously. "The first . . . I fled the Horsemen . . . but I had already brought down the Huntsman's wrath upon me. Very persistent a Hunting Pack. So Death fled with the hounds of justice at his heels seeking to pull him down. They chased me across most of Asia Minor and Europe finally into the land of the Northmen. I died three times, yet I could not shake that damned hunter from my trail. I engineered my escape by weighting myself down with ballast stone and jumped off of a ship, sinking into the sea. When the ropes rotted through some forty-one years later I went on my way. The Huntsman's grave and that of his Companions were on the headland overlooking the site where I went in, only their mortality ended their pursuit." Methos revealed.

The second was in the holy lands during the third crusade. I was very careful to avoid incurring the wrath of this Huntsman and his Pack. The Hunter . . . recognized my difference from mortal men. He passed over me and sought other prey. There was no escape once they took up the hunt. Those men in there wear the faces of that pack."

"Ramirez claimed the Huntsman to be more than human," Connor mused.

"An immortal?" Duncan asked almost like a child at story time.

"No a Singer, a rare type of the Guardian warriors," Methos answered distractedly.

"A Sentinel?" Duncan frowned.

"Some claim them to be Elf as well." Connor said.

"More fairy tales. I don't see an elf in there do you?" Duncan huffed.

"Tannah was," Methos smiled faintly. _Have you forgotten so soon Champion that most myth has a foundation in truth._

"What?" Duncan spluttered in disbelief.

"Well technically he was half-elven." Methos smirked and picked up the wet clothes carrying them inside to hang and dry.

"Connor?" Duncan demanded.

"How should I know?" Connor snorted.

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Thrusting a pile of clothes into Chris' arms Methos' words broke up the heated argument between Wilmington and Larabee. "You are the only mobile member of your party I can even attempt to clothe. Connor is waiting on the beach with the canoe to take you to the nearest phone." Backing off he gave the pair as much privacy as possible.

"He's right, Buck, there aren't any dry clothes that will fit you, Josiah or Nathan. JD and Ezra aren't going anywhere except a hospital. That leaves me," Chris said shakily.

"Alright, Chris, you come back. We need you." Buck backed off when faced with the logistics.

"I'll be back." Larabee's eyes were full of pain but the determination was there as well.

_You're not going to hide in a bottle this time are you, Chris Larabee. _Buck nodded in relief. "You might want to hurry, Nathan's got that 'something isn't right' look in his eyes and Ezra's breathing is getting worse. Chris nodded looking toward the southerner.

"See if you can get Josiah moving. He's blaming himself." Larabee ordered.

"I'll talk to him," Buck agreed as he stalked off.

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"Thank you . . . I don't even know your names," Larabee admitted as he joined Methos in the kitchen.

"Adam Pierson, the dark Scotsman is Duncan MacLeod. The other one is his kinsman Connor." Methos introduced himself.

"Chris Larabee, Buck Wilmington has the mustache. Josiah Sanchez is the bearded one. Nathan Jackson is the black man. CPR is Ezra Standish and JD Dunne is the head injury." Larabee responded.

"Should we be concerned about uninvited guests?" Methos asked.

Larabee looked over and scowled.

"We saw the strafing damage on the plane," Methos explained.

"It's possible. We're ATF agents out of Denver," Chris sighed rubbing a shaking hand across his hair.

"We will be alert then." Methos promised. "Connor is waiting."

Chris pulled on the warm, borrowed clothing. Two pair of socks helped fill the hiking boots to a usable state. Nodding to his team Larabee slipped out the door into the night.


	2. Chapter 2

Duncan MacLeod's Cabin

Somewhere in Washington State

Buck sat down by the burdened Sanchez. The older man kept staring at his hands. "Josiah?" With a worried frown Buck reached out and grasped the other man's hands gently.

"I couldn't hold him Buck. They look so strong don't they?" Josiah's voice broke.

"You didn't let go," JD spoke from his cocoon of blankets.

"I let him fall," Josiah whispered painfully as he wrapped the blanket around his shoulders tighter appearing to age as they watched.

"He broke your thumb," Nathan gently examined the damaged hand. "That elbow is dislocated too."

"Looks like you wouldn't turn loose Preacher." Buck said with certainty.

"He was looking at me when he let go. He knew you couldn't hold both of us. Don't take that away from him. Vin made a choice," JD's voice cracked.

"Vin let go?" Josiah seemed bewildered.

"Vin made you let go. You didn't turn loose of him," Buck assured the heartbroken man. "Let's see about helping Nathan get our boys settled. Then I'm sure these fellas can use some help. Josiah, it's a pretty sure bet whoever shot down the plane is hunting us."

"Nathan, will you put this elbow back in place?" Josiah asked calmly.

"It should be done in a hospital. . . why do I bother," Nathan huffed. "It's gonna hurt like hell."

"I'll need both arms when they come hunting," Josiah answered peacefully.

"Here, it will take the edge off," Duncan offered a bottle of scotch.

"An angel of mercy," Josiah took a swallow. "A true shame not to offer this the respect which it so justly deserves." Josiah stared at the label on the bottle before taking another swallow.

"You ready?" Nathan asked.

"No, but we had better do it now," Josiah gritted.

"Mr. MacLeod will you hold his arm just like this?" Nathan requested.

"Certainly and my name is Duncan," MacLeod took his position. _I wonder how many times I've done this? I can't help but cringe each time. Don't forget to duck, Fritz laid you out for an hour the last time we did this. _

"On the count of three," Nathan said. "One, two . . . ."

A pain-filled yelp filled the area followed by a sharp exclamation and a thump.

"Sorry brother, no disrespect toward your mother," Josiah panted and rocked holding his left arm.

"None taken," Nathan patted Josiah's shoulder before leaning over to check on MacLeod.

"What happened to **three**?" Duncan demanded from his position on the floor. A protective hand rubbed his aching jaw.

"He'd have tensed up and I'd have never got it in place," Nathan explained. "How bad's your jaw?"

"He didn't break it. Actually I'm very lucky considering the size of his fist." MacLeod sat up.

"Haven't you learned to duck yet Highlander?" Methos snorted.

"You . . . help with breakfast," Duncan huffed.

"Let me get this thumb splinted and . . . no you're going to need it. Let me tape it good to at least help keep it aligned." Nathan growled digging through the completely inadequate first aid kit MacLeod had supplied.

"You need to restock this. A lot of it is past its due date. You need more bandages, some splints. You'd be in trouble if someone got hurt," Nathan fussed.

"I'll see about that," Duncan promised. _No telling when I'll have another plane drop in. _

"There's work to be done," Josiah waited patiently while Nathan taped his thumb. He stood up and walked over to turn the wet clothing on the jury rigged lines so they would dry faster.

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"Fourteen handguns, eight spare clips of ammunition, a couple of bows with hunting arrows," Buck listed.

"You figure whoever shot us down is coming?" JD asked groggily.

"Yeah kid, they don't get paid unless they get the Senator," Buck answered.

"But he jumped out of the plane," JD reminded.

"I would speculate our . . . adversaries are unaware of . . . that fact. Senator Benson has a history . . . of avoiding creditors," Ezra wheezed.

"Dark 'chute, sun wasn't up good. Doubtful the men in the chopper saw him bail out." Nathan gently sat Ezra up a bit more and let Buck add another pillow for support.

"They'll be coming," Josiah growled from his place by a window.

"Mr. MacLeod this is your cabin, but if you know a hidey hole I'd get in it and take my friend with me," Buck urged.

"Call me Duncan. Adam and I have military service. There isn't a better spot on the island to hold off an attack. If they would shoot down a plane, they'll think nothing of killing us as well." Duncan answered.

"What about your friend?" Josiah asked gently.

"I can speak for myself, thank you very much," Methos huffed walking up. "I'm still cold from my little swim. I have a hangover. I'm going to kill something, better them than you."

"Hair of the dog?" MacLeod held out a bottle.

"We shouldn't let this go to waste MacLeod. This is the good stuff, and our trespassers are undoubtably English," Methos sniffed disdainfully before taking a swallow. Carefully Methos began to stuff a length of fabric into the bottle.

"Molotov Cocktails?" Josiah smiled widely as he accepted half a dozen bottles of the 'good' stuff and began preparing them.

"Aren't you English?" JD asked.

"Mr. MacLeod is Scots, Mr. Dunne please do not insult our host further. Mr. . . . Adam is Welsh if his accent is any indication. He would not be amused by your categorizing him as English either." Ezra began to cough painfully.

"Sorry, I knew Mr. MacLeod was Scots. It was Adam's accent I was having trouble with." JD watched Ezra struggle for breath helplessly.

"Easy Ezra, just hold on and don't fight it. It'll pass quicker if you just ride it out," Nathan coaxed.

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"Stop it," JD snarled looking over at Josiah. "He's not gone. I won't believe it until I see his body. I'd know if he were dead. Some how I'd **know**."

Josiah stopped his prayer and looked intently at the pale youngster. "It is a prayer for us Brother Dunne."

"People do not fall out of airplanes at 2000 feet and live," Nathan said bitterly.

"1500 we were at 1500 feet." _Is this faith? Mother would be appalled. Now what is the best way to recover Vin without endangering him further by calling attention to him? _"Call me Thomas but I must also see a body before I write that scruffy Texan off." Ezra looked bemused.

"I'll be damned! Ezra as the optimist," Buck shook his head. "Dead or alive I'm bringing our boy home." Buck growled determinedly.

"First we have to rescue ourselves," Nathan reminded as he stood up. "Guess I'm a fool but I can hear him now. 'Nate quit yer proddin' I'se fine.' He'll say. If I'm going to be going after him I want my pants." Wiping his eyes Nathan walked over to check the drying clothes. Grabbing his now dry underwear he pulled them on under the blanket.

"Nathan are ANY of my clothes dry?" Josiah asked.

"Yeah, here's a shirt and your underwear," Nathan wadded up the clothing and tossed it to the big man.

"Thank you, brother. I wasn't ready to face a fire fight sky clad. Although I might have frightened a few of them off." Josiah chuckled pulling on the garments, then wrapping the blanket around his waist.

"Josiah I don't ever want to see you in a skirt do you hear me," Buck studied the other man. "You just don't have the legs to pull it off. Now Ezra . . . " Buck sniggered.

"Mr. Wilmington do **not** go there," Standish hissed.

"You looked good," JD grinned carefully shifting out of reach.

"JD, in coming," Nathan lobbed a pair of underwear over.

"Mr. Jackson?" Ezra looked hopeful.

"Let's get some clothes on you. Pant's aren't dry but your shirt and underwear are." Nathan repositioned the clothing still on the line to help it dry quicker. "Buck I'm not touching that thing," Nathan spluttered staring at the tiger print. Cocking his head he studied the . . . garment. "Doesn't that . . . chafe?"

"No, you get use to it," Buck sauntered over to recover his . . . garment.

Nathan walked over and dropped the socks on JD's lap. "Let me get Ezra dressed and I'll put those on for you."

JD held up the socks and stared at them in disbelief. "Nathan these aren't mine. What kind of socks are these?"

"I believe those are called toe socks," Ezra cast a speculative eye over his companions. Reaching out he took one of the socks stretching it out.

"To small to fit Buck, Josiah, or me," Nathan grinned at Ezra.

"My socks are currently drying beside Mr. Wilmington's . . . thing," Ezra sniffed.

Everyone turned to look at the line. The expensive hosiery hung uncomfortably close to said 'thing'.

"JD we won't tease . . . much," Buck grinned as he removed the garment, dropping his blanket to don the item.

"Buck mine are the white Hanes next to Josiah's pants." JD said calmly.

"Then whose are they?" Nathan demanded.

The men looked speculatively towards their hosts.

"Too small and I was barefoot before my swim," Duncan responded calmly.

"Bare assed as well," Methos huffed.

"I was wearing my plaid," Duncan corrected huffily.

"As I said, bare assed," Methos smirked. "My socks and shoes were left ashore." The dark haired man thrust out a leg revealing the sneaker clad foot.

"Connor was barefoot as well," Duncan said thoughtfully.

"They're black," JD hissed in disbelief.

"No they ain't. Everyone of those toes are a different color." Buck protested.

"Which would not be seen when Mr. Larabee was dressed." Ezra . . . sniggered.

"They're Chris'?" Nathan blinked then began to grin.

"Have to be. He's the only one left that they'll fit," Josiah chuckled.

"I can't believe I'm asking this. Mr. Wilmington where are Mr. Larabee's under garments?" Ezra asked. The emerald green eyes sparkled impishly and his dimples made an appearance.

Glances were exchanged and curious eyes examined the clothes line.

"Low rise, plain old white," Buck noted.

"Not quite," Methos said from his seat at the table where he was chopping onions under the close supervision of Duncan MacLeod.

Buck removed the garment from the line and held it up. "I'll be damned."

"Now that's a given if you listen to the secretarial pool," Josiah snorted as he studied the displayed underwear. A copy of the United States Department of Agriculture stamp on what would be the left haunch proclaimed USDA Prime.

JD's lips twitched and he asked with a squeak. "Does Chris have a tattoo? Piercing?"

"Of course not," Buck spluttered. "He hates needles." Buck studied the incriminating garments. "At least he didn't. Now I've got to wonder what Junior's done to him?"

"Why blame Vin. It could be Mary or some other woman," Nathan protested.

"A woman would have had that plastered on skin," Buck indicated the design.

"Brother Buck does have a point," Josiah nodded.

"And Mr. Tanner did have access to Mr. Larabee's bag." Ezra smiled faintly.

"Ezra, we all had access to the bags. They stay in the office," Nathan reminded.

"Yes but who among us has the patience to wait weeks, possibly months for a prank to bear fruit?" Ezra said softly.

"He's right! It was Junior," Buck agreed tearfully. "Chris would have been ready to kill."

"No he wouldn't," Josiah disagreed. "Brother Chris puts on an act but he's very pleased when our brother 'plays'."

"Yeah, Vin acts older than Josiah most of the time." JD wiped his eyes and cast a longing eye towards the door.

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"It is quieter if you don't dip so deeply with your paddle. No need to call your enemies down on you," Connor said quietly.

Larabee grunted but his paddling became much quieter.

Connor paddled silently watching the fair haired man in front of him. _None of my business. Hell! He's in no mood for a stranger's words. _"A painful thing losing a friend."

Larabee's hands whitened on the paddle for a moment.

"Ach, forgive me I'm getting maudlin." Connor sighed.

"A brother, he's my brother," Chris hissed.

"A hollow spot in your heart," Connor muttered. _So many gone now. _

Larabee silently paddled. _I should feel something, I thought I was bleeding out when Sarah and Adam . . . _Tentatively Chris 'nudged' at the spot he had come to think of as Tanner.

//Chris// a weak touch answered.

//No warm fuzzy but you're still here aren't you, Pard. Hope you stick around for a long time. I think I can live with you being dead if you just visit every so often.// Larabee took the first easy breath since everything started to go wrong.


	3. Chapter 3

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Somewhere west of MacLeod's Island.

Vin Tanner's head lifted sharply and he looked east searching intently. //**CHRIS!** _Damned if Ez didn't git 'em down somehow._ Larabee dammit, Cowboy answer me.// _He's either too far er jist not ready to hear, rekin he's figuring I'se dead. So now what? No telling how bad off they are. I could pull them hunters down on 'em iffen I'se ta head that way. You better stay alive yah __no-'counts._

"You'll never get me back Tanner. There's too much money involved for them to let you turn me in. Even if you managed to get me back I'll never get the death sentence," Benson laughed.

"On your feet, Benson," Tanner ordered quietly.

"You broke my ankle when we landed. I can't walk on it," Benson's complaints cut off abruptly.

A hand gripped Benson's face gently. "Mah brothers was on that plane. Think about that." Vin whispered. _Yer gonna die fer tha evil yah done one way er another. _

Benson paled as he read the other man's eyes. Standing up carefully he edged out of reach and began limping along the trail. A splint holding the broken ankle securely.

"At least uncuff me so I can use a stick to help walk," Benson demanded.

"I'se sure they'll fix yah up nice 'fore they give yah the needle," Vin said softly.

Benson gritted his teeth and hobbled along. _I'll enjoy pulling the trigger on you myself once I'm finished with you._

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_Well Tanner yer in deep shit. I got the bullet hole plugged before Benson come to but he saw 'nough ta know I'se in sorry shape. Left leg hurts clean to my ears, that ankle's sprained fer sure, some busted ribs, managed to get tha arm back in socket. Preacher damn near pulled it off. Got bruises clean to tha bone. Vision's blurry. Bones ache like hell. Nathan's gonna be pissed. I'm good fer maybe 48 hours before I'm down. Thirty miles at the most in this terrain. Road was west and south, so was a creek. They'll be lookin' fer us tha' way and Benson is gonna make things as hard as he can. _Tanner considered his options realistically.

Vin's frown cleared as he reconsidered the terrain he had studied as well as possible while trying to control the parachute, an unconscious Benson and hang on for all he was worth. _Wish I coulda got some money down on that. Ole Ez would a lost him a pocketful. What's tha odds I wonder on a fella fallin' outta an airplane and snagging him a ride down anyway? Damn iffen I don't wear me a 'chute anytime I'se in a plane from now on. Talk about Tanner luck tha Capt'n ain't never gonna believe it, __**twice **__ta one man? Funny tha way a man's mind will work times like that. _

_West and North it is. Git ta high ground and wait fer mah pick up. Capt'n, he's gonna know we went missin'. He'll be armed fer bear when he comes. I best be where he'll expect me. Git yer ass in gear Tanner. Damn my head hurts. Shouldn't tha sun be up by now? _

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On the Lake, Washington State

"Sh, into the brush here Larabee," Connor hissed softly easing the canoe under some over hanging branches and snugged in against the shore.

Silently the two men sat as the sound of a motor became clearer. A man was sitting in the bow holding some type of monitor as the fishing boat passed.

"Fishermen?" Chris asked hopefully.

"No, that was Peck's boat. He'd not be letting her out without him aboard," Connor snarled. "Mr. Government agent, how would you be feeling about a bit of breaking and entering?"

"What?" Chris looked back over his shoulder at the perfectly serious Connor.

"Peck's is the closest phone. The next will be over at the Manse on the inlet. Caretaker's office will be locked still at this time of morn but the phone will work. Easier to stay out of sight as well getting there."

"The Manse it is," Chris looked after the other boat, worry evident in his expression.

"They seemed like capable lads," Connor soothed. "And it's knowing trouble comes they are."

"Yeah," Chris rubbed his shoulder distractedly for a moment before picking up his paddle and helping Connor push away from the bank. _Must have hurt myself getting Ezra out. You'd think someone tried to yank it off. _

"MacLeod, your accent keeps fading out. Why's that?" Chris asked curiously as he paddled.

"A long time from home, Lad. A long time from home. Last night Duncan and I . . . old memories. A few days and I'll be speaking like a New Yorker again," Connor responded.

"Doubtful, your cadence is wrong," Chris said.

"To a European or Asian I'll sound close enough," Connor laughed. _Best to keep a close eye on these lads, they'll notice inconsistencies. _

"Born in Scotland?" Larabee asked trying to occupy his thoughts.

"Aye, Glennfinnan," Connor answered cheerfully. _A very, very long time ago._

"I think Buck's people were originally from that area," Chris mused.

"The lad with the mustache? Could be, he has the look of some of the McGregors," Connor smiled sadly. _Wilmington McGregor taken up by the English at Culloden along with the flower of the highland warriors. Bred true he did, the lad wears his maker's mark. Wonder whatever became of Fiona and her boy? _

"McGregor? Buck never mentioned any McGregors," Chris interrupted Connor's memories.

"An outlaw clan, proscribed were the McGregors for treason against the crown. Hunted across the glens like rabbits. Many a McGregor changed his name and found asylum amongst a sympathizing clan," Connor chuckled.

"I'll have to remember to tell Buck that. He's shown interest in tracing his family," Chris mused.

"Tell him often a given name became a surname in effort to hang on to what legacy they could," Connor said. _Will was a bonny man it is well that he be remembered by more than Duncan and me._

"I'll do that. Buck might want to corner you up and ask some questions," Chris warned.

"Not sure how much I can tell him," Connor's lips twitched.

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Duncan MacLeod's Cabin

"Boat," Nathan called softly from his place by the window.

"That's Peck's boat," Duncan growled angrily as he spied the strangers moving around on board.

"A friend?" Buck asked sharply.

"He's not aboard," Duncan scowled studying the men. "Connor would have seen them coming. He'll be going to the Manse to use the phone there instead."

"Looks like they tracked the locater on the plane," Buck grunted, watching as the boat circled over where the plane had gone down. "Whoo wee somebody ain't happy."

The bonfire from the night before still smoldered in the firepit sending a small plume of smoke into the air that was spotted by one of the men aboard the boat.

"Heads up boys, they're landing," Buck growled.

The boat touched shore and ten men hopped off the boat. Spreading out the trail was soon discovered and they started towards the cabin.

A furious man stomped from one end of the boat to another gesticulating wildly, before being approached by a smaller figure that kept pointing to something in his hands and then pointing west.

"Buck?" Josiah asked quietly.

"I'm betting they had a tracker on Benson," Buck snarled. "That's the last damn time I take the Marshals' word for it that someone is checked out."

"Makes sense we were wired. With the shuck and jive we pulled moving Benson that's about the only way they could have found us," Sanchez sighed.

Curses carried faintly to the watchers as the men rushed back down to the beach when the boat backed off and raced away followed by a round of angry gunfire.

"Well that's ten less men they have to send after Junior," Buck chuckled. "Keep shooting boys, it makes for less ammunition to send our way."

"So we have the high-ground, food, water, and heat," Josiah said thoughtfully.

"These walls are a full two foot thick," Duncan patted a log. "My great-grandfather built this cabin himself. The shutters do work and they have gun ports." _It was a lot of work but well worth it. _

A solid clunk filled the air as Methos dropped the crossbeam into place on the kitchen shutters.

"Sound advice, Adam," Josiah swung the shutters on his window into place and dropped the crossbeam into position.

"I'll be in the loft," Methos said calmly as he picked up a bow and quiver.

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Still somewhere west of MacLeod's Island.

"Hold up. Best git a drink while yah can." Tanner indicated the small stream they were following.

Vin hissed and knocked Benson down as a chopper passed low. _That's three times this ain't bad luck. Think this through, Tanner. How'd they know which plane we was usin'? Musta been a leak, nobody but us knew which plane we was takin'. Money to rent it came out of an account that JD and Ez set up, so's they didn't follow tha money. Ole Benson here has a habit of disappearing and leaving other folks wit' empty hands er holdin' the bag. Rekin his 'rescuers' has tagged him some how. So I need ta figure he's got a tracker of some kind on him. Hurtin' bad 'nough I ain't gonna zone if I listen fer it. _

Benson leaned against a tree, panting.

"What in hell do you think your doing?" the senator squeaked when Vin handcuffed him to the tree.

Vin never spoke as he unfastened Benson's belt and pulled it out of his belt loops. Sensitive fingers ran over the expensive leather. A pleased grunt and Tanner pulled a knife splitting the leather he worked a small disc free and sat it down carefully. Vin tugged on the senator's waist band, deciding the pants were tight enough to stay in place he didn't bother replacing the belt.

"What's that?" Benson demanded.

"Tracker," Tanner answered distractedly.

"The cops bugged me? That'll get your case thrown out of court," Benson laughed.

"Nope, who provided yer suit?" Vin asked softly.

"My lawyer, he bugged me?" Benson hissed in fury.

"Rekin he's gonna git paid one way er ta other. 'Course after them Mercs git yer bank account numbers and passwords they don' need yah, does they?" Vin smirked. "Hell these fellas don't take chances do they?" Vin cut into the lining of his prisoner's suit coat and recovered another tracker. "I'se figgerin' on lucky three whatcha think Mr. Benson?"

Benson scowled but didn't struggle as Tanner continued his search.

"Yah might wanna sit down, I'm gonna check yer shoes," Tanner suggested strongly.

Vin sighed and pried the heel off the right shoe setting the tracker to the side he used a couple of rocks to hammer the heel back on. Gathering up the devices he looked thoughtful then grinned mischievously. A chunk of wood, a bit of vine, a couple of leaves and soon a small boat was floating along the swiftly moving water carrying the trackers down stream.

_Well Tanner yah got a hell of a problem. Bird song says the sun's up but I cain't tell it's gettin' any lighter. Rekin mah eyes is worse than I thought. Nothin' fer it but ta head fer high ground and wait fer help. Say a prayer fer me will ya Preacher. _

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MacLeod's cabin

Josiah hesitated a moment than began to pray aloud. "Father, we have been taught to pray. If we only have the faith of a mustard seed, we might move mountains. Our brother Vin is out there alone and he needs all the help he can get. Send a light to guide him to safety. It wouldn't hurt to watch over the rest of us while you're in the area."

"Amen," voices chorused.

"Josiah?" Nathan asked.

"Just felt like Vin needed a bit of help," Josiah shrugged.

"Looks like they're getting ready to charge," Buck announced.

A ragged volley of bullets hit the side of the cabin, dull thuds and breaking glass filled the air.

"None too smart are they?" Buck growled before carefully lining up a shot.

Four of the men dropped as the team returned fire. Another man dropped as a feathered shaft penetrated his chest. MacLeod quickly replaced the spent arrow searching for another target. Agonized screams filled the air when an arrow penetrated a man's shoulder pinning him to the tree behind him. The screams of the injured were abruptly silenced when one of their companions put a bullet into each seriously injured man's head.

"I'd say they're a might serious," Buck growled.

"Not very friendly souls are they?" Josiah growled.

"Mighty poor guests," Nathan agreed as he winged one of the remaining men hidden behind a rock.

"At least prop me up by the damn window," Ezra barked from the protected nest the others had placed him and JD in.

"Would you be quiet, I'm busy," Buck huffed back. "Nathan can you burn that fella again? I'm gonna pop him when he jumps."

"No problem, coming in here disturbing my lunch. Making more work for me," Nathan grumbled. "He's learned a bit. He's all sucked in behind that rock. Well, well not all of him. Here goes Buck." Jackson fired.

A pained scream and the man lurched into sight only to catch a bullet through the shoulder.

"Leaves three," MacLeod reminded searching the area intently.

The branches of a tree shook and a body fell out.

"Looks like Adam has been busy," Josiah whistled.

"Two, MacLeod," Methos called from above.

"One," Josiah announced as he fired.

"Where's the last one?" Buck demanded.

"Running for the beach," Adam reported.

"He'd better be a strong swimmer," Duncan laughed. _Poorly led not a new hurt among us._


	4. Chapter 4

Cascade PD

Major Crimes

5:05 am Monday

Simon Banks, Blair Sandburg, Jim Ellison and Joel Taggart were all at their desks trying diligently to catch up on the backlog of paperwork. Once they had seen ATF 7 team off at the airport that morning it hadn't made sense to go back home.

"They haven't had time to even get to Denver yet, Big Guy calm down," Blair chuckled as he watched his sentinel rearrange the pencils in his cup for the third time in fifteen minutes.

"Childish I know but I really did think about arresting the whole damn team to keep them off that plane," Ellison admitted sheepishly.

"We're going to fly out to see them on Labor Day. You're not going to lose Vin this time," Sandburg soothed.

"I know Chief, it's just that . . . trouble really likes Junior." Jim rubbed the bridge of his nose distractedly.

"Josiah too . . . things had a way of . . . there was the time he was patching the roof at this place we were staying. Naomi and a couple of the other mothers from the commune went to town to sell some fresh produce and left four toddlers for the poor man to look after." Blair grinned ruefully.

"Now that's a recipe for disaster if I ever heard one," Joel muttered from his nearby desk.

"Oh it was," Blair sniggered.

"Were you one of these toddlers?" H looked up from his battle with the copier. H and Rafe were attempting to finish up the reports on a late night stakeout and go home.

"Josiah accused me of being the instigator," Blair admitted.

"What happened?" Jim asked. _It must be good the way Blair's sparkling._

"We moved the ladder on him," Blair sniggered.

"Toddlers?" Bryn Rafe stopped typing to stare.

"Never, ever underestimate the abilities of small children," Joel snorted. "Their capabilities increase with the potential for mayhem. I had to recarpet my house one time." Taggert shuddered in memory.

"You moved the ladder," Jim reminded nudging the story back on track.

"We were pretty small and we couldn't really move it much but we did shift the center of balance." Blair dropped his head to study his teacup.

"Enough to drop a distracted man on his behind," Simon Banks laughed before handing Jim one of his reports. "Jim there's this thing called spell check . . . use it."

"Yeah." Blair winced in memory. "I really can't remember much but Naomi said they came back three hours later and found Josiah unconscious in the yard."

"Four toddlers?" Joel asked faintly.

"With paint brushes and roofing tar," Blair responded.

"How bad?" Jim demanded.

"We . . . painted ourselves and him," Blair giggled.

"Not good," Simon grunted.

"Did I say it was summer? And a very back to nature commune?" Sandburg asked sweetly.

"So?" Rafe looked puzzled.

"Clothing optional I take it?" Joel winced.

"Yeah, the only clothing between the five of us was Josiah's sweatband and the leather ties on our braids." Blair answered. "We painted each other and Josiah from the tops of our heads to the souls of our feet. Lots of screams and tears involved in the cleanup I can remember that much. The moms just gave up and shaved our heads after a while. They had to use mineral spirits to get the worst of it and washed us down with the water hose before putting us in a tub and scrubbing our hide off."

"I can see how that would have been traumatic," Jim growled reaching out to tug on one of Sandberg's curls. _A bald Blair? _

"Oh the screams and tears weren't ours they were Josiah's. Think about it man. We were just babies but Josiah is a really . . . fuzzy kind of guy. The ladies weren't happy. Once they were sure he hadn't broke anything or gotten hurt bad they helped clean him up with scrub brushes. They'd work up the edge of some of that tar and then . . . rippppp. They finally took pity on him. He had this full beard way down onto his chest and his hair was below his shoulders. His beard was . . . glued to his chest hair and well he ended up shaved from top to bottom. Let me tell you Josiah Sanchez without hair is one ugly dude." Blair said.

"Why didn't he run?" Simon asked. "I would have."

"He couldn't his inner thighs were glued together along with parts that were near and dear to him." Blair sniggered.

"Oh Man," H hissed in sympathy.

"And he didn't drown you when he got the chance?" Ellison said in amazement.

"I think he was considering it four or five days later when the hair started growing back in." Blair admitted. "Did you know it's almost impossible for a grown man to shave his own butt?"

"Don't go there," Simon growled before returning to his office.

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The members of Major Crimes were gathered around as Simon Banks explained some new procedures.

"Where's Blair, he needs to know this too?" Banks asked.

"Break Room, he'll be right back," Jim responded.

Simon began to cover the non-essential things while they waited on Sandberg.

A loud crash was followed by startled yelps from the members of the Major Crimes team. Ellison spun around, the sentinel's eyes widened as he registered the presence of the cougar atop his desk. His computer monitor lay shattered on the floor.

"Do not move, it is terrified, any movement may trigger it to attack," Rafe said calmly, slowly pulling his handgun from his shoulder holster.

"You can see it?" Ellison demanded.

"Claws, teeth, fur. Looks like a cougar to me," Simon muttered.

_I think that was what I said the other night. __**Whoa! **__Rafe and Simon can see it? _Jim stared at the animal.

"Of course we see it. Why wouldn't we?" H asked shakily staring at the crouched cougar.

The cougar was almost lying on the desk. The deadly claws were locked in the desktop where it had gouged scratches. Its hair seemed to be standing on end. Its eyes were clamped tightly closed.

"Looks scared to death," Simon whispered tightening his grip on his own weapon.

The crash of Blair's tea cup startled everyone. The cat's eyes sprang open and it flinched wildly falling off the desk top to land with a loud thump on the other side of the desk.

"Real graceful there slick," Elison chuckled.

The mountain lion's head lifted into view, the startling blue eyes glared across the desk top at the sentinel.

"Ghost lion, it has blue eyes," Rafe whispered in awe, lowering his weapon.

"What?" H hissed.

"It is not really there, it is a life guide," Rafe smiled.

"Blair, is this one of those spirit guide things Tanner was hallucinating?" Joel Taggert asked faintly staring toward 'nothing' along with Megan and several other detectives.

"I've never heard of a blue eyed cougar," Blair responded.

The cat's head dropped out of sight, then the big cat walked through the desk and sat down in front of Ellison.

"I'd say that answers the question," Simon chuckled weakly, reholstering his weapon.

"He's hurt." Blair walked over and knelt down by the cat gently touching a dark patch of hair on its side.

"Damn," Jim groaned sinking down beside his guide. "Runt's in trouble."

"Uh guys I know this is kind of hard to explain but . . ." Blair's mind raced as he tried to come up with a feasible explanation for invisible cats as he faced the burglary detectives that had appeared after hearing the crash.

"Figure this is some of that Ellison Mojo?" one of the detectives asked his partner.

"I'd say so," the other officer shrugged and wandered away.

Shortly all the officers had gone about their day leaving the shocked Major Crimes detectives to regroup.

The ringing of the phone in Bank's office drew everyone's attention. Simon sighed deeply and went to answer.

"Take my truck, go back to the loft and get our camping gear. I'll be ready to head out when you get back," Jim ordered holding out the keys to Blair.

"Jim," Blair said miserably.

"I'm not writing Runt off, not this time. I'm going after him." Ellison said flatly, looking down on the cougar. The big cat seemed to wink and grin then faded away, the grin the last to go.

"How very . . . Alice in Wonderland," Blair grumbled.

Jim's head turned toward Simon's office as he listened intently to the phone conversation taking place.

"Jim, man don't do this," Blair hissed. "Come on back big guy." Blair gently rubbed Ellison's arm calling Jim back from a zone.

Ellison jerked back to awareness an expression of such loss filled his face that Blair's heart plummeted.

"What's wrong?" Sandberg asked hoarsely.

Simon's office door opened and the big captain was obviously shaken.

"The US Marshall prisoner transport unit has been attacked, there were no survivors. The plane that ATF Team 7 was aboard went off course and has now disappeared from radar," Simon announced shakily from the door of his office. _Damn we can't afford to lose those kind of men._

A shocked murmur of voices filled the air.

"At this time it is assumed that this was a criminal act. The Air Controller on duty reported gunfire before losing contact with the plane. Needless to say, Gentlemen, Ladies, we are all on alert due to the nature of the prisoner they were transporting." Banks reported.

"Prisoner? What prisoner?" H asked. "I thought they were ATF not US Marshalls?"

"They were moving Edward Benson. The strongest case against the senator at this time is arms dealing. The US Marshalls were moving a decoy," Simon explained.

"There was a leak," Joel growled bitterly.

"Probably," Simon agreed. Banks stiffened and returned to his office as his private line rang once more.

"I liked those ATF guys," H sighed sadly.

Joel frowned. _Wonder if I'd be any help or just a burden if I went along? I can't believe that Wilmington may be gone. _Suddenly Jim's words sunk in."What do you mean not this time?"

"I've written that kid off as dead twice. I'm going after him. If he's disorientated or hurt and on his own and being hunted . . ." Jim's voice trailed off.

"Bad news man, real bad news," Blair agreed. _He hasn't had time to find his balance after the debriefing. _

"Twice?" H demanded.

"Vin's a lousy flyer." Jim smiled weakly."During a Ranger training exercise my unit and Captain Nelson's were jumping together. Runt's 'chute failed during insertion." Ellison answered.

"Reserve 'chute, but the landing would have been a bit hard." Rafe, a serious skydiver considered.

"Tanner luck, 3500 feet and no 'chute at all. His main deployed and got twisted he cut it free, the secondary failed to deploy. I radioed it in and my unit finished the exercise, while Nelson's looked for the body. When we got back to base that evening there's Tanner sitting on the barrack's roof. Somehow Blue Dumont saw him falling and managed to snag him. Nobody could believe it. They landed a little hard, but neither of them got so much as a sprain. Next day Tanner went back up. We had to shove the kid out of the plane, but he'd keep going back up. He'd throw up every single time but he stayed on the team. Investigators proved his 'chute had been tampered with. It was a murder attempt we never did find out if Vin was the target or he just got the short straw." Jim responded. _He was madder than a wet cat. He didn't get scared until after he was back on the ground. First time he let any of us actually touch him. He slept curled up on the foot of Blue's bunk that night and nobody said a damn thing about it. _

"The second time his team didn't make it home," Jim said bitterly. "I'm going to go find him."

"Blair," Ellison nodded toward the door.

"I'll be back as soon as I can," Blair answered worried eyes lingered on the sentinel.

"I'm alright Blair. He's not dead. Think we'd know it if he were." Jim said calmly.

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Simon came out of his office. "It's official, Mike Dawson has asked for you, Blair, and as many officers as I'll let him have."

"Do you own anything as mundane as hiking boots?" H teased his dapper partner.

"Of course. Jim should I bring my rifle?" Rafe asked in his soft South African accent.

"Yeah we could run into whoever took out the Marshalls." Jim nodded.

"You have a rifle? Why didn't I know? We've been partners for a while here, Rafe," H demanded as they headed out to get gear.

"At least there should not be hyenas," Rafe's voice carried clearly.

"Hyenas!" H spluttered.

"It was an issue when my Boy Scout troop went camping," Bryn said calmly as they stepped into the hall.

"Hyenas?" Simon asked Jim in disbelief.

"South Africa, just the local wildlife," Ellison responded.

"I need to reread Rafe's file," Simon grumbled.

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An hour later

Major Crimes

Simon scowled at the pile of armament carefully stacked by Ellison's feet. "Is all that legal?"

"Yes, registration and tax stamps." Jim held up a weather proof document case. That he slipped into a pocket inside his jacket.

"Where'd you get these?" Blair demanded looking down.

"Secure storage," Ellison grunted. The Sentinel was rapidly rearranging everyone's backpack.

"Jim, won't we need the tents?" H asked as the tents were set to the side.

"We're traveling light. H, you were a marine right?" Ellison growled.

"Yes sir," H reverted to military training.

"Then you know how to handle the M-16. It's selective fire." Jim handed the detective a rifle.

"Medical kit, compasses, food for 3 days, space blankets, water purification tablets, extra socks, and a change of clothes, collapsible water bottles, canteens, matches, flint and steel," Ellison checked the items off.

"Toilet paper." Rafe held out a package. "There is roughing it and there is torture."

"Topographical maps, flares, hand held secure channel radios," Joel carried over the items he had scrounged for the group.

"If there's anything we can do from this end let us know," Simon ordered.

"Yes Sir," Ellison agreed before picking up a pack and heading for the door leaving Blair, Rafe and H to scramble to catch up.


	5. Chapter 5

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"Turn your back now." MacLeod gave a wild grin before cheerfully breaking a small window in the door of the Manse's office. Reaching in Connor flipped the latch then grasped the knob. Getting an embarrassed look on his face he reached through the missing pane and flipped the latch back the original direction then opened the door.

"It wasn't locked?" Larabee smirked. "Hell of a cat burglar you are."

"I got out of the business," Connor sniffed before pointing to the phone on a nearby desk. _Actually I was very good, even Amanda thought so._

"Good, you'd starve to death," Larabee retorted as he walked over to the phone. Picking up the handset he hesitated.

"Forgot the number have you," MacLeod tormented.

"If the team was set up, who's safe to call?" Chris muttered.

"Someone you trust," Connor's suggested gently.

"They're all at the cabin," Chris sighed. _Or dead._

_A lucky man if he has so many he can truly trust. _"Someone they would trust than," the immortal said.

_Ellison, Vin trusted him with more than his life, he trusted him with his very soul. _Chris began to dial the recently memorized number only to go to the cellphone's voicemail. _Major Crimes then. _Dialing a number he waited.

"Major Crimes, Det. Ellison's desk," a strange voice answered.

Larabee glared at the poor innocent phone. "May I speak to Det. Ellison please."

"He's not available at this time, may I be of assistance?" the stranger offered.

"Is Simon Banks or Joel Taggart around?" Chris asked. _I have to trust somebody and Banks is good at keeping secrets. Buck laid his life on the line a few times with Taggart._

"May I ask who's calling?" the man asked.

"Tell them it's . . . a friend of Slick's." Larabee growled.

"Slick?" the stranger questioned.

"Yes, Slick," Chris snarled impatiently.

Larabee cursed softly as the always irritating canned music came on line.

"This is Banks, which one am I talking too?" Simon's welcome voice came on line.

"Larabee." Chris answered flatly.

"How bad?" Simon's voice dropped into a warm soothing tone.

Connor scooted a map on to the desk and pointed to the site.

_Was he always like that or did he take lessons from Josiah and Sandburg? _"Plane was shot down by an armed helicopter. We crash landed into a lake at coordinates . . . Vin's . . . dead."

"What happened?" Banks coaxed. _Do I tell him about that damn cat or not?_

"He got yanked out of the plane in mid-air by Benson during a scuffle," Chris responded without emotion.

_Timeline . . . the cougar showed up after Tanner fell. _Simon Banks rubbed the painful spot between his eyes. _Do I tell Larabee or not . . . Of course I do, if it was Jim I'd need to know. _"Jim's on his way now. We had a . . . guest this morning." Simon rolled his eyes. _Time for a __psych evaluation. _

"Who?" Larabee scowled. _Ellison's on his way?_

"One of Tanner's furry friends. Jim said Slick was in trouble. As of 6:15 this morning Ellison was sure that Tanner was still alive. He didn't know about the rest of you but he was sure Vin was alive." Banks reported.

"A man doesn't fall out of an airplane and live," Larabee said coldly.

"Tanner's done it before." Banks couldn't stop grinning. _Welcome to the Sandburg zone. It may be nice having some sane company._

**"HE WHAT?" **Larabee yelled, tightening his grasp on the phone_._

Banks yanked the phone away from his ear with a wince. Cautiously he put the phone back to his ear. "Larabee?"

"Vin's alive?" Chris asked hoarsely.

"I can't swear to it but that damn cougar left very real gouges in Ellison's desk." Banks said.

"Scratches?" Chris whispered. _Vin's alive?_

"Yeah a very shook up putty-cat. I'm still trying to figure out how to explain the busted monitor," Simon groaned.

Connor stood silently listening in to this end of the conversation and studied Larabee's reactions. _The Huntsman lives then? It would be best to get the Hunters all together as soon as possible. Local clinic can probably take care of Sanchez and Johnny. They didn't seem serious but they'll be taking Standish on to Seacouver I'm thinking. Let Duncan stand guard over the injured. The old man and I will go with Larabee and Wilmington to watch over them. Methos has forgotten more about hunting than Duncan ever learned._

"Thanks Simon, I'll be looking for Ellison." Chris ran a shaking hand over his hair. After reminding Simon about the missing prisoner, mercenaries, Peck's stolen boat, and the need for medical care, Chris hung up then called the local sheriff. "Time to get back." Larabee turned to Connor.

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"Hold it right there, the two of you," A voice ordered sharply. Both men turned to stare at the very large bore of a shotgun and raised their hands.

"I'll pay for the calls and to fix your door," Chris said quietly.

"Rekin maybe so. Did you call the sheriff while you were at of it?" The older but obviously very capable man demanded.

"Yes Sir I did. I'm going to get my badge out so you can see it." Chris announced before moving his hands. Carefully he opened the badge case and displayed the contents.

"Revenuers!" the shotgun wielder spat.

_Aw hell! I'm going to get shot because of a hidden still. _Larabee thought.

"I've wanted to do that for years," the man chuckled lowering the shotgun. "My daddy was the moonshiner not me. So who are you and how can I help?"

"ATF team 7 SAC Chris Larabee and this is Connor MacLeod, could we borrow a boat?" Chris asked.

"Morgan Ward," the other man introduced himself. "Lots of snags and banks out there. You'll rip the bottom out of a boat if you don't know the waters."

"He's right about that Larabee. It's one of the reasons Duncan sticks with the canoe." Connor agreed with the caretaker.

"Duncan MacLeod?" Morgan asked.

"Aye a cousin," Connor answered.

"Ah Hell, let me get my coat. Duncan MacLeod's been a damn good neighbor. How many need a ride?" Morgan demanded.

"Six, no five of my team, three of which need to get to a hospital. Duncan MacLeod and his friend, Adam Pierson. Might not be safe for them to be out there with mercenaries on the loose." Chris listed.

"Call Sheriff Blackhawk and tell him to have an ambulance meet us at Rusky Point. Mercenaries wouldn't stand a chance. Soldiers those two, even if they are out of the service now. Surprised MacLeod was able to drag that thin blooded Welshman back out there though." Morgan snorted, grabbing a set of keys out of a lock box.

"It took some doing to get him in the canoe," Connor agreed cheerfully. "Like giving a cat a bath."

"It was snowing the first time MacLeod brought his buddy out to the cabin. I almost busted something laughing so hard when MacLeod dumped that aggravating Welshman in the lake." Ward chuckled at the memory.

"You two any good with rifles? If I'm going to be meeting up with armed criminals I want a bit of fire power backing me up," Morgan announced unlocking a gunsafe and handing the two men hunting rifles before selecting one for himself and the appropriate ammunition for them all. "Boat's this way." Ward led the way down to the boathouse.

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//**TANNER!**// Chris settled in the bow of the boat to keep watch his body language radiated company would be unwelcome.

//Chris?// Vin's 'voice' seemed weak. The touch seemed to wrap itself around Chris, the 'golden glow' grew brighter by the moment as if gaining strength from the contact.

//I thought you were dead.// Larabee's mind voice was shaky.

//Not yet.// Tanner responded with a 'chuckle'. //Tell Ez I didn't like the in-flight entertainment. Next time I make the arrangements.//

//I'll do that.// Chris relaxed but kept studying the lake for potential dangers. //How bad Cowboy?//

//Nate's gonna be pissed.// Vin admitted. //I still got Benson. He ain't happy, seems his lawyer was playing for the other team.//

//Where are you?// Chris demanded rubbing his aching shoulder and wiping at his blurring eyes.

//Ain't sure. West of you the way it feels. I'se going ta high ground and squat 'til my pick-up.// Vin 'said' cheerfully.

//Once I get the boys taken care of I'll come for you.// Larabee answered.

//Be waitin' fer yah.// Tanner promised.

//Ellison might get there first.// Chris 'said'. //Careful what you shoot at. Search and Rescue will be out.//

//Ain't gonna be shootin' less I'se cornered up.// Vin responded.

//Vin? What aren't you telling me?// Larabee demanded.

//All I'm seein' is shadows.// Vin admitted.

//Tanner how long can you hold out?// Larabee asked sharply.

//46 hours no more.// Tanner reported. //36 mobile.//

//Benson?// Chris tensed worried about an injured Tanner with a known killer.

//Ankle's broke, bruised up and he's in Ezra shoes. It's his buddies that'll be the problem. Might want to tune in. They's three tracking buttons floating downstream.// Vin 'said' cheerfully.

//Bad guys lost something did they?// Chris smiled. _Left them twisting in the wind didn't you._

//Yep, I got to go 'fore I fall on mah ass. I let you know when I settle.// Vin's exhaustion was easily felt.

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"Well that's better," Ward said peacefully. "Larabee doesn't look like he'll bite off a hand if you get close now.''

"Aye, he's alert but not explosive now. Must be knowing help is on the way." Connor answered. _Or knowing his Hunter is alive._

"There's coffee in the thermos, help yourselves." Ward said distractedly as he navigated through a series of small islands.

"Coffee," Connor spoke and held up the thermos.

"Thanks," Chris answered taking the cup from Connor and waiting as he poured.

"A fine thing your man living after all," MacLeod said.

"More lives than a cat," Chris chuckled weakly.

"Once we get your injured taken care of Adam and I will help you find him." Connor offered.

"The whiner?" Chris asked.

"He protests much but he's a good man in a tight place. If he'll admit to it, he's a fine tracker as well." Connor laughed.

"Like Ezra," Chris snorted.

"The drowned rat?" Connor questioned.

"He was complaining before he was dry." Larabee grunted.

"But never boring," MacLeod chuckled.

"No, Ezra's not boring," Chris admitted.

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Morgan scowled as he studied the beach on MacLeod's island. "Boat grounded and men went ashore. If it was Peck's boat they're still ashore. This is the only spot that it could come in."

"It's Duncan," Connor lowered his rifle when the younger immortal stepped onto the beach.

"It's bad company your keeping," Connor yelled to his kinsman.

"I thought I had run you off," Duncan shouted back. "Our bit of trouble is taken care of. I"ll be needing a bit of window glass." Duncan grabbed the rope that Connor tossed to him and tied it to a large tree further up the beach securing the boat.

"Anybody hurt?" Larabee demanded as he jumped onto the beach.

"Only villains," Duncan answered. "Standish's breathing is getting worse."

"Ambulance is supposed to meet us at Rusky Point." Connor hopped onto the beach.

"Damn," Chris grunted as he stepped over a corpse on the path.

"A few more are laying about, your men said that the investigators would want them left where they lay." Duncan sighed.

"Yeah, sorry to be such poor guests MacLeod." Chris said.

"They haven't tossed beer caps behind the refrigerator," Duncan smiled.

Chris stopped and looked over questioningly.

"Adam," Duncan rolled his eyes.

"But they **will **drink it all," Chris warned.

"So does Adam," Duncan chuckled.

"There are more of them," Larabee reminded.

"But Adam can drink more than all five of them combined," Duncan muttered.

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"Get your lazy butts onto the boat. I want to get you taken care of so I can go after Vin," Larabee ordered after making a quick study of the unit and finding no new injuries.

_Damn, Junior you even have Chris believing in miracles. _Buck smiled warmly the worried frown disappeared as he took in Chris' relaxed stance.

"Chris?" JD whispered.

"We wrote him off too soon. Ellison is on his way to make a pick-up but there are bandits on Vin's tail." Chris grinned widely and shook his head in amazement.

"**WHAT**?" Voices demanded.

"Since he couldn't reach us Vin sent a message to Ellison," Chris announced.

"That's our boy," Buck praised.

No one was ashamed of the tears that followed on the heels of the giddy laughter.

"What, pray tell, are we lingering here for? We should reacquire our friend immediately," Ezra wheezed and tried to stand up.

"Hospital for you, JD, and Josiah; Don't argue. Buck, make sure everyone stays together and let Ellison or Simon Banks know where you end up. I don't want to be hunting all over the country for you two. Nathan, you think you can borrow a kit from EMT, or Search and Rescue? MacLeod, if you wouldn't mind helping Buck ride herd. Adam, Connor said you can track. I could sure use some help. Be warned there are armed mercenaries out there," Larabee reeled off duties and requests.

"He did, did he?" Adam sighed. "Let me find my hiking boots. The sooner I find your man the sooner you're out of my hair." _Now this is different. I'm hunting the Hunter. _Methos mused in amusement. _Certainly friendlier than being prey._

Chris picked up his dry clothes and went to change.

"Nathan you figure Junior's hurt?" Buck scowled.

"He fell out of a plane. Of course he's hurt," Nathan grinned widely. "I can't wait to chew him out for getting banged up."

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Chris and Nathan shouldered their packs, kindly provided by Duncan MacLeod and started over to the pickup truck. Adam and Connor followed, exchanging a few quiet words, carrying their own packs. One of the county reserve police officers had offered a ride to help the group on their way. The rest of the team's protests could be heard as the ambulances pulled away. A few state and local police officers had already left on Morgan's boat to start processing the crime scene out at MacLeod's cabin.

"Tell me about your man," Adam said as they rode down the dirt road in the back of the truck. "It helps in hunting if you know how your target thinks."

"First thing, you start after Vin thinking of him as prey you better be prepared for the fall out." Chris chuckled.

Nathan nodded in agreement from his place resting against a pack of medical supplies.

"Knows his way in the woods?" Adam asked softly. _Of course he does, it's not like a hunter will ever be exactly tame. _

"And then some," Nathan grunted.

"He has a prisoner and he'll be hurt," Chris muttered.

"He trusts you?" Adam asked softly. The immortal was curious to see how this Hunt functioned in comparison to the other two he had known.

"Yes," Chris answered without a pause.

"Then he'll find a secure place and wait for rescue," Connor said thoughtfully.

"High ground," Chris said with assurance. "He's hurt and being hunted."

"Chris is right. Vin would go high," Nathan agreed.

Adam nodded and tapped on the sliding glass window of the truck.

"Yeah?" The window slid open and one of the nameless officers asked.

"Can you drop us at Ranger Station 1?" Adam asked.

"Sure, no problem. You think your man got that far?"

"No, we'll head south see if we can cut his trail." Adam answered.

"Be careful. From what I understand we have some boys playing for keeps," the man warned. "Don't be afraid to use those radios to call for back up.

"Very careful," Adam smiled. _Jackals hide when the lions hunt._


	6. Chapter 6

While Adam examined faint marks in the soil with Connor making comments in Scots Gaelic, Chris and Nathan exchanged disbelieving looks. The pair stood bent at the waist resting their hands on their knees trying to catch their breath. Connor MacLeod and Adam Pierson didn't even seem to be breathing particularly hard.

_So much for me thinking they'd slow us down. _Nathan chuckled to himself ruefully.

"They both have that lazy looking amble Vin uses," Chris panted.

"Figure it's something they teach in the Rangers?" Nathan asked.

"It's a hunter's stride. My father taught me when I was barely belt tall," Connor answered distractedly. "Once learned it is an easy gait and covers much ground. You're fighting the ground rather than letting it aid your journey."

"Two men, both limping. One seems to have his hands bound behind him. See the marks of his hands here where they sat. Not a position you'd normally sit in. The bound one is six foot, perhaps a bit over. He's wearing town shoes. The other is 5' 9" not much more than that. He's wearing well broke in hiking boots. The left one is more worn than the right. Does your man favor his left side? Like standing hip shot or leaning slightly left?" Adam asked quietly.

"Vin has a curvature of the spine. He has a tendency to cant to the left when he's tired or hurting," Nathan answered quickly.

"Then it's your lad's trail, the old man has found I'll be thinking," Connor muttered studying the signs himself and nodding.

"What are we waiting for?" Chris straightened looking impatient.

"We've a decision to make Mr. Larabee. Do I stay on the trail. We can move faster than these two so we will catch up eventually. Or do I leave this trail and try to cut their trail again further on. We can travel where two injured men, one in restraints cannot go . . ." Adam held up his hand cutting off Chris' words. "Yes there is a chance we will miss them if we don't stay on the trail. You said Tanner will go high and wait for rescue. How sure of that are you?"

"It's what he'll do," Chris said emphatically.

Nathan nodded in agreement. "If he was hunting all bets would be off. Vin knows we're coming so he'll go to ground and wait for assistance."

"He's a woodsman?" Connor asked. "It makes a difference in the tracking."

"Think he'd stay out on the trails forever if he didn't have us pulling him home." Chris admitted.

"Dangerous to track then. Someplace with a clear field of fire and protection for his back. . . . Does Tanner know this area?" Adam demanded. _Like I want a Huntsman thinking I'm hunting him. A man could get dead permanently that way._

"I have no idea but I wouldn't rule it out," Chris muttered.

"Dragon's Nest?" Connor suggested. "It's where I'd go and it's fairly close."

"A very good place." Adam agreed. "I really think that cutting across country will work. Your man knows what he's doing and the Nest is the best stronghold within 50 miles." Adam stood up and repositioned his pack.

//VIN!// Chris 'called'.

//Cowboy// Vin's warm touch immediately responded.

Chris frowned as the glow seemed to be even weaker than the last contact. //Do you know a place called Dragon's Nest?//

//Is it a west facing cave or deep crevice on a ledge with a mountain meadow just below it what feels like due west of you?// Vin asked weakly.

"What's this Dragon's Nest like?" Chris asked.

"A west facing fair sized cave with a good water supply inside. It has a ledge overlooking a mountain meadow. Excellent field of fire and almost impossible for someone to come in from behind," Connor described the Nest.

Larabee 'relayed' the information to Tanner not even considering how the connection worked anymore.

//I spotted it on my way down. I'se already headed that way.// Vin's voice weakened.

//Tanner?// Chris questioned while trying to get past the feeling of overwhelming exhaustion projected by the other man.

//Guess I over estimated things. I'se hurt worse than I figured. Rekin I kin stay on my feet 24 hours, Cowboy. Best not expect me to be mobile after that.// Vin 'sighed'.

//Dammit, let me see.// Chris 'pushed' his way past Vin's shields.

"Crap" Larabee sucked in a pained breath and went to his knees in agony having 'felt' Tanner's pain.

"CHRIS!" Nathan barked and hurriedly supported the white-faced man.

"I'm fine," Larabee growled standing up and shaking Jackson's touch off. "Just a little dizzy for a minute. We'll head across country. I think Vin's running out of time."

"What have you done to yourself?" Nathan hissed noticing the wet patch on Chris' shirt. He tugged the garment out of Larabee's waistband so he could see how badly the other man was bleeding.

"It's not his," Adam said calmly.

"Where'd the blood come from?" Nathan wiped the blood off, then ran his fingers over Larabee's undamaged skin distractedly.

_Vin, It's Vin's. _Chris stared at his blood smeared fingers in disbelief.

"Maybe it's stained from crushed berries of some sort," Connor suggested. _Like I haven't seen enough blood to recognize the stuff. So you're the First of the Companions._

"Don't know where it came from but it doesn't belong to any of us," Nathan muttered. "If you think Vin's in trouble we better get moving. Here eat this." Jackson held out an energy bar. "Don't need you falling on your ass 'cause you're too stubborn to take care of yourself." _How deep does this connection between those two go? If Chris bleeds when Vin's hurt what happens when one of them dies? _Nathan's eyes were filled with worry as they journeyed on.

The four men headed west in single file. Silence fell over the group as they moved through the forest.

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_They can only kill me, doubtful they'd cut off my head. _"It's always been fascinated by the old stories I am. There's an old Norse tale told by some of the grandfathers of the children of Heimdall. Heimdall was the Watchman of the Norse gods. Supposedly he could hear grass grow and see to the ends of the world." Connor smiled faintly.

"Watchman?" Nathan panted for breath as they made their way over a particularly bad bit of trail.

_There's something . . . different about these two and the other MacLeod as well. Weird but I trust them for some reason._ Chris studied the two strangers intently.

"It would be nice if you could tell your Tanner where we are headed before we run our asses off for no reason." Connor grumbled.

"There's lot of truth in those old stories sometimes. I doubt anyone who had never met a Watchman or his Companion would recognize the signs," Adam said as he led the way.

"What?" Nathan asked softly.

"I was told by a Companion that a pair could 'talk' over far distances." Adam grinned to himself as he walked along.

Larabee scowled as he trailed behind Adam and Connor. Nathan came to an abrupt halt and turned his head to look back at Chris. Jackson's shocked look snapped Larabee's attention back to his group rather than worrying about Tanner's condition.

_He's met a Companion before? How many Sentinels are there? _Chris wondered what kind of trouble had found them now.

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East-north-east of Dragon's Nest

Ellison settled into a slow jog as he headed east with his own pack on his heels. The group traveled for almost 30 minutes before Ellison stopped beside a small creek and knelt down for a moment.

"Junior might not be on top of his game but he's still driving folks crazy," Jim grinned indicating a small stick boat with a leaf sail stuck against the bank.

"Why'd he take time to do something like that?" H asked in disbelief.

"Tracker bugs**.** I'd say Tanner found out how they discovered which plane they were on," Jim explained.

"Let's just help Vin out a bit." Blair leaned over and gently nudged the boat back into the current sending it on down stream.

"Follow the stream?" Rafe asked softly.

"Not a good idea Bro. If anyone is following those bugs they're probably following the creek," H answered.

"And here they come," Jim growled urging his group into cover and quickly hiding the trail sign they had left behind.

Lying tensely under the cover of a rotting log and several boulders the major crimes crew watched as a well armed group of men in camouflage walked past. Waiting long minutes, Jim finally signaled the all clear.

Turning up his radio to a normal hearing level, Ellison keyed his mic and called base camp. "Base camp**,** this is Ellison, come in," Jim radioed.

"Dawson here. You already find Tanner?" Mike asked cheerfully.

"No, we just made contact with a group of 6 hostiles. Repeat 6 mercenaries at GPS coordinates. Let me see that thing, Sandburg." Ellison took the GPS locator and recited the coordinate numbers. "They seem to be following a stream south-east. You might want to get your searchers out of their path."

"Copy that Ellison. Dawson out."

"You didn't tell him about the trackers," Blair reminded.

"Our radios should be secure but the best technology can be compromised," Jim explained.

"I should have thought of that. Hackers are everywhere." Blair looked sheepish.

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West-north-west of Dragon's Nest.

"Losing some blood there, Tanner," Benson grinned widely as he studied the growing dark stain on Vin's shirt. "Getting weaker all the time. How long do you really think you can keep me prisoner?"

"Long 'nough. Keep movin'." Tanner pushed Benson into motion.

"Ever watch Deliverance, Tanner? Bet you'd squeal like a pig," Benson chuckled. "Pretty boy like you, maybe I'll find out. You're going to go down and I'll just walk out of here."

Tanner silently followed on his prisoner. _If I go down I'm killin' yah first Benson. Yah ain' gonna hurt no more babies. Larabee yah best hurry yer ass along. _

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West of Dragon's Nest

"Down!" Adam hissed, dropped to his belly and rolled into cover quickly followed by Chris, Nathan and Connor.

The men lay in the underbrush as a squad of mercenaries trotted down the trail they had just abandoned. Larabee shook his head at the questioning looks sent his way.

_Somebody else's problem. I have a Texas hairball and a prisoner to recover. _Chris scowled after the mercenaries. _Just not enough man power to deal with them anyway. Radio this in and see if we can get the army out. These boys are too much for a few cops and forest rangers to handle. _

"Base, this is Larabee, come in," Chris keyed his radio once they were back on the path.

"Larabee, this is Sheriff Blackhawk, how may I assist?" A calm, deep voice answered.

"Need to reach the search base camp," Chris answered.

"The mountains block communications. We're relaying messages through my office. Ellison said you're a straight shooter, so what do you need?" the deep voice asked once more.

_Ellison? Banks said he was on his way. Doubtful they'd connect us. Even if this is one of the mercenaries playing Sheriff, some one else might pick up the message. _Chris sighed and keyed his mic once more. "We just spotted a unit. **Not** US military headed north. Repeat a unit of 12 well armed mercenaries headed north from mile marker 7 on trail 11."

"Copy**. **12 cowboys armed for bear, headed north on trail 11 at mile marker 7," Blackhawk answered.

Chris took a pained breath. _Dammit Tanner you better be alive when I get there. I'll even let you call me cowboy . . . once. _

"Cowboys?" Chris keyed his mic.

"Hey I play for the Redskins," Blackhawk responded. "Go get your man. I'll arrange for a welcome party for our unwelcome guests."

_Wasn't Ellison the name of the 'Sentinel' that grad student recanted a while back? _Methos considered thoughtfully. _Have the sentinels returned? And why? _

"Let's go get Vin," Nathan urged, once Larabee signed off.

The four men continued on their way toward the lost Tanner.


	7. Chapter 7

* * *

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Seacover Community Hospital

"Any news?" Duncan MacLeod handed Buck a cup of coffee as he sat down next to the ATF agent in the hospital waiting room.

"They're keeping Josiah and JD overnight for observation. What with the dunking we took and the injuries, they're being careful. Ez is in surgery to fix a rib and patch his lung. CPR was a little rough on a cracked rib. He's gonna be giving me hell over that," Buck sighed, rubbing a distracted hand over his curls before taking a sip of his coffee.

"One of those things they hold over your head forever," Duncan smiled faintly. _And it will keep coming up even after a few centuries. _

"Nah, I'll just tell him I wasn't the only one with my lips on his," Buck smirked, waggling his eyebrows. "It'll shut him up permanently on the subject."

Duncan chuckled. "I wouldn't want to bring Larabee into the mix either." _I've seen your face before on another man. Now to try and remember who he was. _

"Damn**,** I hate this," Buck groaned.

"Good strong men even the youngster. I'm thinking your Tanner is the same," Duncan said.

"Junior makes man-size tracks**, **but he's hurt and he's out there on his own," Wilmington sighed.

"Then you and I will make sure these three are taken proper care of so that Larabee and Jackson won't worry while they hunt for Tanner," Duncan suggested. "I couldn't think of two men I'd rather have coming after me than Adam and Connor. They'll find your lost one, have no fear of that."

"They any good as trackers?" Buck demanded.

"Yes, both of them," Duncan promised. _Plenty of years to learn how and not that many to forget such a skill._

"You any good at tracking, MacLeod?" Buck sighed and stood up.

"Fair, why is it you ask?" Duncan questioned.

"Because Josiah just slipped out the emergency room door and JD is trying for the main entrance," Buck growled.

"I'll go after the little one," Duncan muttered.

"Josiah's the easy one. Just wait until Ez is out of surgery. The only one that can match him in hospital escapes is Vin," Buck called back as he darted for the emergency room door.

_Larabee was serious when he wanted me to help ride herd_ _on his men. _MacLeod shook his head as he cut JD off at the pass. "Going somewhere, Mr. Dunne?" Duncan asked in a soft tone.

"Crap," JD turned around without further comment and headed back to his cubicle in the emergency room.

"Apprehended as well, John Daniel?" Josiah grumbled, as Buck . . . escorted him back to emergency.

"Yeah, I didn't even get out of the building," JD huffed.

"I made it to the bus stop," Josiah grinned.

"He might have got away if he had bus money," Buck snorted.

"Even I know enough to snag my wallet before I run," JD snorted.

"You might have been less noticeable if you had remembered your pants," Duncan pointed out, as he stood guard over his charge.

"How much do you two owe the 'Great Instigator'?" Buck demanded.

"Twenty bucks apiece," JD grudgingly admitted.

"Would have made more sense to make your break when we were tied up with Ez . . . Nah, he's still in surg . . ." Buck's voice cut off abruptly as he spun around searching for the nurses' station.

"Josiah?" JD looked over.

"Not a chance. Brother Ezra has Buck so paranoid that he'll wear himself out long before Ezra is even out of surgery," Josiah chuckled.

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Private Office

undisclosed location

"I don't care what it takes. Get that idiot Benson out of the country," an unseen man with a cultured voice spoke into the phone.

"That might be harder to do than anticipated, sir. Larabee's team survived and searchers are in the area," a clipped male voice was heard over the speaker phone.

"Colonel, if it is not possible to secure the Senator . . . make certain that he will not be an issue." A long fingered manicured hand toppled a knight sitting on a marble chess board.

"Yes Sir, if Senator Benson cannot be extradited he will be eliminated," the unknown Colonel answered.

"Very good, it would be very bad for business if he were to try to broker a deal." A soft click ended the conversation.

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Dragon's Nest

"You've got to be kidding! I'm not climbing up there." Benson planted his feet determinedly. "I'm not going one foot further. I'll have you up on charges for abuse. Forcing me to walk on this ankle."

"Be easier on me iffen you was dead," Vin Tanner answered calmly.

"WHAT!" the senator spluttered in disbelief.

"Yah heard me. Onliest reason I'se kept yah alive this far is Larabee'd be pissed iffen I'se ta lose yah now," Vin muttered distractedly as he concentrated on the trail in front of them. _Be a whole lot easier without him. Eyes is worse, losin' tha shadows now too. Cain't tell how bad this trail is or how exposed. _The Texan tried to force his eyes to see.

"You're an officer of the law. You can't hurt me." Benson smirked regaining his composer.

"Yah don' say. Fellas have accidents all tha time," Vin said silencing his prisoner.

_Eyes ain' workin' rekin I need ta find the way some other way. _Cautiously Tanner 'reached' out with his other senses. _Yeah I kin feel the path under mah feet. _The Texan breathed a sigh of relief. Vin tensed as his ears picked up a strange sound. Piggybacking his sense of smell he 'tracked' the sound that caught his attention. _What in blue blazes is that? Never smelt nothin' like it. _

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West of Dragon's Nest

Chris ducked his head and wiped at his eyes as his vision seemed to dim for a moment. //VIN?//

"Chris you alright?" Nathan asked softly.

"More out of shape than I thought," Larabee growled as he stalked down the path.

_The Huntsman is fading. With mercenaries out we just can't safely move any faster. _Connor sighed deeply while watching the two anxious men interact. Exchanging a worried look with Methos, Connor urged the pair into motion.

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Cascade Mountains

Undisclosed Location

"We need to remove Benson from the equation. It is preferable to extricate him but do what is necessary so that he doesn't remain in legal custody," the silver haired colonel ordered calmly.

"Yes Sir," several voices coursed. "Terminate with prejudice if necessary."

"Colonel, Captain Silverman has just reported finding the tracking devices at this location. They had been discovered at some point and floated down stream. Benson should be in this general vicinity." The aide-de-camp indicated a section on the map he held.

"Do we know who has him now?" the dark-eyed colonel asked.

"Our contacts have placed ATF agents Dunne, Sanchez, Standish, and Wilmington at Seacover General Hospital. Two ATF agents are searching with a couple of local guides. Descriptions indicate that those two are most likely Larabee and Jackson. Indicating Tanner is the missing agent," the aide answered.

"Vin Tanner?" a scarred mercenary officer by the name of Joshua Cable demanded.

"Tanner, Devin James," the aide responded checking a printed page.

"Hell, I'm out of here. You're not paying enough for me to hunt Tanner." the scarred man hissed, signaling his second he turned to leave.

"If you bag him I'll add another half a million," the colonel.

Pausing for a moment the scarred man smiled faintly and shook his head. "A man has to be alive to spend it. I **know** just how damn good Soft Foot is."

"Soft Foot, should I know who he is? A dapper man with a British accent asked.

" He was a U.S army ranger, one of Ellison's pups." An unseen speaker responded.

"Might know him better by his call sign, you ever hear of the Falcon?" Joshua Cable growled.

"The Falcon's dead," the aide-de-camp snorted.

"You ever see a body?" A couple of voices demanded.

"No," the aide-de-camp admitted.

"They'll be blood on the mountain if it really is Falcon," An officer grunted.

The British officer frowned. _Cable doesn't jump at shadows. _

"If he's hunting, Falcon doesn't have . . . patterns the ONLY thing you can depend on is that he'll keep coming. If he's going to ground, the only advice I have is look to high ground and expect a lot of collateral damage. He is the best highman alive." Cable warned softly.

"He's that good?" the British mercenary asked softly.

The scarred Merc officer paused before answering. "Kid's unnatural he's so damn good. Tell 'em Jonesy," he ordered his second in command.

"I was working long range patrol in a training exercise. A unit of Ellison's panthers were suppose to infiltrate our lines recover a 'weapon and three scientists' while we stopped him. Tanner had been on Ellison's team less than six months. Falcon looked about fifteen, a stiff wind would have blown him away. His rifle was bigger then he was. One of the observers got the whole damn thing on tape. Little shit shadowed me over half a mile before taking me down. I fell on my face, I really did think I'd tripped. When I sat up I had a damn 'dead man' flag around my neck. I never saw him period." Jonesy admitted sheepishly.

"Seems like it was personal if he followed you that long," the aide-de-camp said thoughtfully.

"It was, Jones 'really' never saw the kid . . . even when Jonesy took a leak on him," the scarred officer chuckled as his second groaned.

"Come on Jonesy we're packing up," Cable ordered.

"Did you see the Colonel's eyes when Tanner was mentioned?" Jonesy said softly after putting considerable distance between him and the officer in question.

"Yeah, the man's scared to the bone. Damn near ready to piss himself," Cable growled just as softly. "Let's move it, if Tanner's hunting his ass I don't want to be in the way."

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West of Dragon's Nest

Rounding a boulder in the trail Methos almost ran head on into yet another group of mercenaries.

"Take them out, dammit Benson is ours," a voice barked.

_This isn't going to be good. _Metho's spun around throwing himself onto Chris rolling them both into the under brush. Connor knocked Nathan into the rocks and dove for cover. The sound of automatic rifle fire filled the air.

"You idiot. Now the authorities will be pouring into the area," a harsh disgusted voice snarled followed by a gunshot. "Move out, now," the same voice ordered. The rustle of brush was soon heard followed by a shocked silence.

"Chris!" Nathan hissed after a long moment.

"Shit! Nate get over here Pierson's hit," Chris barked. Quickly Larabee moved into a position where he could guard all their backs.

Nathan rushed over in time to hear Adam Pierson's labored breathing stop. _NO! Dammit not another innocent. _

Checking for a pulse Nathan caught Chris' gaze and shook his head sadly. Larabee nodded bitterly before scanning the brush for any returning mercenaries.

Connor sighed and rolled his eyes. _Well this isn't quite the way I wanted to have this conversation. _"Old man, get your lazy butt up before I tell Duncan who gave his unlisted phone number to the telemarketers."

"Mr. MacLeod, I'm sorry but he's gone," Nathan soothed. _I didn't expect MacLeod to revert to denial. _

A sharp gasp and the dead body . . . wasn't dead. Nathan stared down at his fingers on the dead man's pulse in total shock. _I haven't made that mistake since the first year of med school. _Rushing into action he tore the shirt open searching for the wounds.

"HOLY SHIT!" Nathan barked and scooted backwards on his butt staring at the blue sparks dancing over Pierson's wound.

"Nathan?" Chris demanded as he swung his gaze back at the outburst momentarily.

"He isn't dead and he should be," Nathan protested.

Connor chuckled and moved over holding out a canteen as Adam sat up.

"I hate that part," Methos groaned, coughed and spat a wad of bloody mucus into the dirt.

"Here this will help," Connor waved the canteen in front of the other immortal.

"Thanks," Methos muttered. Taking a drink he coughed, then lowered the canteen with an appreciative look. "Thank you." he grinned up at Connor lifting the canteen to toast the other man before drinking some more of MacLeod's scotch.


	8. Chapter 8

Nathan's eyes were so wide that a white ring showed all the way around the iris. Nathan swung his fist knocking Methos out cold. "It ain't natural, dead folks is suppose to stay dead."

"He's taking it rather well," MacLeod grinned widely and winked at the unmoving Larabee. Connor chuckled and moved over picking up the canteen so as not to lose any more scotch.

"He ain't dead?" Jackson growled as Adam sat up and worked his aching jaw.

"No, Mr. Jackson I . . . Shit!" Methos scrambled back as a big fist lashed out once more.

"He will **be**. I have had it! None of you idiots take medical advice. Tanner's a walking, talking quirk of nature and NOW THIS. Somebody damn well better stay **dead**," Nathan roared and took another swing at the speechless Pierson. "I have enough trouble with my blood pressure!"

"Nate, calm down! At least this one is staying dead." Chris nudged the dead mercenary lying on the path. Larabee seemed a bit spooked himself staring wide-eyed at Pierson.

Connor chuckled at the atypical reaction. _How refreshing. A little training and we could make a sword fighter out of Jackson. _

Methos kept ducking and trying to get out of the furious Jackson's way. Diving behind Connor for protection he winced as the sound of fist meeting flesh filled the air.

"I'm sorry Connor," Nathan slipped back into medic mode. Pulling Connor's hands away he grimaced as he caught sight of the obviously dislocated jaw. "This is going to hu . . ." Jackson's voice trailed off. "Chris I'm changing teams. I won't need a medical kit . . . yeah a nice quiet vacation." Nathan said as he watched the injury heal.

Chris never said a word just simply scowled at the two immortals.

"You want to explain that?" Nathan waved a shaking hand at Connor's jaw.

"I'm an overachiever?" Connor grinned. "Here this will help," Connor waved the canteen in front of the disturbed Nathan.

Jackson took a deep swallow. Ignoring Adam's outstretched hand he put the lid on and tossed the canteen to Larabee. "Scotch, the good stuff".

"Am I going to need this?" Chris growled.

"Possibly," Connor admitted. _Now will they admit to the Huntsman? Do they even know what he is?_

"Here," Chris tossed Adam the canteen.

"Thanks," Methos muttered.

"Dead people don't drink scotch," Nathan muttered to himself.

"Nay Lad they don't," Connor agreed.

"Something in the water around here?" Nathan demanded. _If there is I'm drowning the whole damn bunch in it. _

"My name is Connor MacLeod of the clan MacLeod and I was born in the highlands of Scotland in the year 1516 and I am immortal," Connor said with a sly grin.

"Well shit," Chris breathed. "Him?" Larabee demanded looking at Methos.

"A bit older," Connor answered. _A whole lot older. _

"Explain later, we don't have time for this. Nathan, let Blackhawk know about the Mercs and tell him where to find the body," Chris growled. "Let's go."

Methos took up the hunt once more. Chris scowled thoughtfully at Pierson's back.

"Think about it Christopher. Adam has lived a **very** long time and seen many things. Answers for a troubled man's questions he might have." Connor said quietly as he passed. "But first we'll find your Huntsman."

Chris and Nathan exchanged looks before following the two immortals. Larabee slipped past to follow close on Adam's heels.

"How do you know about Vin?" Nathan hissed softly.

"Adam has met two of the Huntsmen. He knew you for a pack as soon as he saw you," Connor answered looking over his shoulder at the medic.

"Have you ever met any?" Nathan asked Connor as they trotted after Pierson.

"I've heard of them, never met one to my knowledge. I grew up on stories. Clan MacLeod had a watchman, the generation before my birth." Connor answered.

"Can you tell what kind of shape Tanner is in?" Methos asked softly after a bit.

Chris hesitated before admitting. "Vin's losing blood, he's hurting in so many places it's just one big throb. Something is wrong with his eyes, he's nearly blind."

"Falcon and his Guide could touch mind to mind. Can you . . . talk to him and find out exactly where he is? Not sure what else to call it," Methos snorted.

"Yeah, he's at the base of the Dragon's Nest and starting his climb. Benson is still with him," Chris answered.

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"Gunshots, automatics. Some of the Mercs I'd have to guess." Jim Ellison cocked his head and looked off into the direction the sound was coming from.

"Isn't Larabee in that direction?" Rafe asked softly.

"Yeah and from what they were saying they have just that kind of luck," Blair muttered, concern easily heard in the soft words.

"Pistol shot, just one," Jim announced. He hesitated on the path a moment. Turning up the radio he tried to call base. "No reception. We need to move to a better location. Keep your eyes open, Guys."

Ellison led his group through the underbrush for almost 15 minutes before he finally made radio contact. "Ellison to base. Dawson do you copy?"

"Go ahead Jim," Dawson's calm voice answered.

"We had automatic gunfire to the south of our position, copy? Fifteen minutes ago we had automatic gunfire to the south," Jim radioed.

"I've already been informed. Blackhawk says that your buddy Larabee was fired on. His team sustained no injuries, repeat no injuries. One dead hostile killed by his own people, copy?" Dawson reported.

"No injuries, Larabee's still hunting, copy?" Jim relaxed.

"Yes, good hunting panther, out," Dawson cleared the air.

Blair smiled faintly as he heard the news. "Looks like we turn south." Blair pointed to the panther and wolf waiting on the southern path as their trail branched.

"South it is," Jim agreed.

"I am never going to get used to those things," H growled lowering his rifle.

Rafe chuckled as he passed H. "It would be best to try. Following a Guardian and Shaman there will be stranger things than spirit animals."

"Why are you taking this so well?" H snarled.

"Africa is an old land with many secrets. My mother was told I was destined to follow a Guardian at my birth, a blue-eyed panther." Rafe answered with his soft African's accent. "Since the fountain I have known that I found my Guardian and his Shaman."

"Am I the only one that didn't get the memo?" H grumbled.

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Benson cursed as he slipped on the rocky trail. "Tanner, dammit, I can't climb with my hands cuffed."

"Best learn ta fly then," Vin answered without pity. "Tolt yah dead's a might easier on me."

Benson cursed under his breath and continued up the steep trail. _I'm going to take my time killing you. _

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Methos twitched as once more Nathan's speculative glance rested on his back. "Mr. Jackson, if you have a question please ask," the immortal suggested as he continued walking.

"How old are you?" Jackson asked curiously.

"Some older than Connor. Legend claims that Methos is over 5,000 years old," Pierson snorted.

"5,000 years?" Chris breathed in awe.

"Still didn't answer my question," Nathan reminded calmly. "You said you had met another Singer once."

"Two, I met two Singers," Methos answered distractedly.

"Makes you at least 3,000 doesn't it?" Nathan said hoarsely.

"What?" Adam Pierson stopped so quickly that Chris ran into him knocking them both into the dirt.

Connor chuckled faintly at the look on Methos' face. _Mortals can still surprise you can't they old man. _

"Whatever gave you the idea I could be 3,000 years old?" Adam demanded climbing to his feet.

"Nathan?" Chris asked curiously as he stood up.

"Vin said a Singer is born about every thousand years. It stands to reason that if this dude has seen two Singers besides Vin then he must be . . .," Nathan trailed off.

"Over three thousand years old," Chris whispered.

"Well this is a fine fix you've gotten us into Stanley," Connor said in a bad Oliver Hardy impression.

"Let us say I age well and leave it shall we," Adam sighed. _It's been years since I slipped up like that. _"And that 1,000 year thing is a guesstimate. It can be a longer or shorter period depending on need."

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Vin found himself in a fight for his life as Benson tried to kick the sharpshooter off the steep path. Tanner was back in control but only after adding new injuries to the ones he already had and knocking his prisoner unconscious.

"Ought ta just throw yer ass over the edge," Vin hissed as he waited for Benson to wake up.

"You want ta live yah best keep yer mouth closed and do as yer told," Vin snarled when Benson came to with a groan. Unsympathetically he forced Benson to his feet and pushed him on up the path.

_Sure as hell coulda done wit'out that little set-to. _Vin gritted his teeth determinedly as he climbed after his prisoner. _Judge owes me. Maybe a nice vacation on his dime er somethin' fer tha kids. I'll ponder on it a bit. _

Painfully the two men crawled onto the ledge in front of the cave. Vin's nostrils flared as he tried to discern the scent of any predators living in the cave. Once more he caught the traces of the strange odor. _Wish tha hell I knowed what that is. Don't have me tingling so's I don' think it'll eat me. Hell, Benson's got more meat on him anyhow, let him go first. _

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Chris snarled and tried to push past Pierson as he headed directly for Dragon's nest.

"Chris what's going on?" Nathan demanded as he and Adam each grabbed an arm stopping the headlong charge.

"Benson! He's trying to kill Vin," Chris struggled trying to get free of the two men's hold.

"It will be over one way or the other before we get there," Connor reminded grimly. "If your laddie comes out the winner you'll not be wanting ta lead the hunters down on him by going charging through the woods."

Chris nodded faintly and stopped fighting. Every nerve seemed to be tuned to what was happening somewhere else. Finally Chris relaxed with a vicious grin on his lips. "Good going, Tanner."

"Chris? Would you PLEASE tell me what's happening. It's not like I have that damn spidey sense remember," Nathan fumed.

"Vin twisted on Benson's broken ankle until the bastard passed out," Chris answered in grim satisfaction.

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"Sir, Colonel sir, Captain Silverman reporting. He has sighted our target Sir," a youthful private raced up with a hero worshipping look on his face. Excitedly the young man held out a radio.

"Silverman, where is he?" the colonel demanded. _Finally, take care of business and get the hell out of here._

"Target and one man . . . repeat Target and one man climbing peak at coordinates . . . locals call it Dragon's Nest. . . . too far . . . intercept . . . play hell . . . place . . . fortress . . . need howitzer . . . out . . . suggest abandon target. No go repeat NO GO," Silverman reported.

"Hold your position, copy," the colonel growled. "Silverman has a sniper with him doesn't he?" The dark eyed mercenary demanded.

"Yes Sir," his aide snapped in response.

"Silverman, find a perch and terminate target. Repeat terminate target pay is half of finder fee if death is verified, copy."

"Terminate? . . . one or both?" Silverman asked.

"Both if possible, original target is priority, copy," the colonel responded.

"Target priority, secondary if possible, copy," Silverman signed off.

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"Waverly looks like you're on. Where do you want to set up?" Silverman turned to the cold-eyed man.

"No time to set up before they reach the top," Caleb Waverly studied the pair through his binoculars. Lowering the binoculars the sniper looked around. "There, if I get set up on that peak I'll have a clear line of fire." Waverly said calmly.

"Half pay is better than no pay," Silverman growled.

"Target?" Waverly asked as he trotted along followed by the rest of his team.

"The suit," Silverman answered.

"Second man?" Waverly asked.

"Cop of some kind. The colonel wants him gone but there's no pay for it." Silverman responded.

"No problem, him I'll do for fun." Caleb giggled excitedly and looked back over his shoulder with a wide grin.

Silverman shuddered faintly. The insane glint in Waverly's eyes revealed why the man had been cashiered from the elite unit he once had served with. _The man's a loose cannon. Need to get rid of Waverly, he's just too much of a liability. He's killing just to kill now. What's the Colonel thinking killing a cop?_


	9. Chapter 9

Vin sighed painfully as he slumped down just inside the cave entrance._ Just got ta catch mah breath is all. Then I'll stand guard, yeah, like I'm really gonna be able to keep watch. Lie ta tha world Tanner but not to yerself. A grown man shouldn't be scairt of being closed in. Don' matter, need ta watch anyhow. Reckin I'll hear 'em coming though. Then what? _

Tilting his head Tanner listened as Benson tried to get comfortable. "Might as well stay still, yah ain' going nowhere," Vin chuckled as the pedophile cursed bitterly. _Probably catch hell fer fastening him that way but I ain't in no shape ta take him on again. _

"At least let me lay on my side," Benson finally wound down.

"Flop over, ground won't hurt much," Tanner said unsympathetically.

Benson muttered under his breath faintly, tugging at the cuff securing his right wrist to his left ankle behind his back, efficiently hobbling him. He finally managed to flop over onto his side. _I'm going to make him wish he was never born. Wonder how long I can keep him alive? _Gradually the Senator dozed off.

Tanner turned his attention once more to the approaches to the cave. Vin shook his head as he tried to fight off the exhaustion just a little longer. Pushing himself back to his feet he took several limping steps before returning to 'his' spot and eased himself cautiously down on to the stone.

_Sun must hit this spot it's so warm. _The trickle of water falling into a pool soothed the over stretched senses, the warmth of the stone he was laying on eased the pain wracked muscles. _Need yah ta hurry Cowboy. I'se mighty tired. _The quiet and the lack of motion, and the slight easing of his pain caught up with the exhausted man and his eyelids grew heavier with each blink until finally the tracker joined his prisoner in sleep.

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"Nine men," Ellison growled as he examined the trail.

"Looks like they went this way," H pointed.

"They were stopped here for awhile," Ellison muttered to himself.

"Taking a break," Blair suggested.

"No, everyone stayed on their feet . . . like they were watching . . ., " Jim's voice trailed off as he faced the direction the man he had marked as the leader had taken. Spinning around he studied the sign of the Mercs leaving the glade. "Moving fast so where are they go . . . ," Ellison muttered to himself.

The Jaguar appeared pacing along the trail impatiently. "Lead on MacDuff," Ellison sighed as he took off after the now bounding cat. "Looks like we're in a hurry guys."

"Jim, isn't Tanner that way?" Blair protested faintly. _Oh man have I gotten turned around again? _

"Tanner is, but the sniper went this way. Larabee'll get Vin. I need to make sure he's alive when they get to him," Jim growled as he picked up the pace.

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"So you don't die," Nathan said. He was still trying to wrap his mind around the concept.

"Oh we die, just don't stay that way," Connor chuckled.

"Are your folks immortal too?" Jackson asked curiously.

"Immortals are all foundlings. No idea where we come from," Connor answered calmly.

"So your kids are mortal," Chris blurted. _More of a curse then a blessing if you outlive your children. _

"No children," Connor said flatly.

"How does somebody become immortal?" Nathan quickly asked yet another question.

"A violent death. Some pre-immortals never become immortal because they simply die of old age first," Adam's voice carried back.

"Immortals recognize each other by their quickenings. That's what we call the . . . thing that makes us immortal. A pre-immortal has a very faint quickening that some immortals can sense," Connor answered Nathan's next question before he could ask it.

"Vin must have reached the cave. He's stopped moving," Chris interrupted abruptly.

"I'll call in for an airlift," Nathan said reaching for the radio he was currently carrying.

"No!" Chris growled. "We don't know who we can trust. We could just be calling down the hunters on him. He's hurt and he's confused." Larabee warned.

"You can tell him to let them take care of him," Nathan protested.

"He'll revert Nate. He's gonna slip off and hole up if we do that," Chris said bitterly.

"Yeah he will," Nathan admitted.

"We call in the chopper once we're a good part of the way up the climb to the nest," Chris decided. "That way it'll get there just about the time we do."

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Tanner woke with a jerk. Fearfully he registered his injuries and his blindness. His ears locked onto the sound of breathing. Standing up shakily he took a deep breath before forcing himself to move further into the cave. Allowing his senses to examine the other man he frowned. The faint chink of metal links on stone indicated prisoner.

_Where tha hell am I? Hunted? By who? It's not a maneuver. This is real enough. _Vin gently probed the bullet wound in his side. _Cave, I must be in a damn cave. Hate caves always pressin' in on a fella. This one is worse then most, must be 'cause I cain't see but I could swear I kin 'feel' tha walls a breathin'. _Tanner's heart began to pound as his claustrophobia kicked in.

//Vin?// Chris reached out feeling a faint brush against his mind.

A confused barrage of emotion and jumbled thought filled Chris' mind. "Something's wrong! Vin's not thinking clearly, it's all muddled."

"Could have hit his head or . . . ," Nathan's voice trailed off as a troubled look crossed his face.

//Blue?// Tanner asked hesitantly.

"Nathan, he thinks I'm Blue Dumont," Larabee hissed.

"He was mighty shook before we started home Chris," Nathan reminded.

"Flashback? You mean he's lost back then?" Larabee demanded.

"Can't say without seeing him but he's got nothing to anchor his reality on." Jackson admitted.

**//GUIDE?// **Tanner's thought 'grabbed' Chris in a desperate touch.

//Sh, sh, easy Vin I'm coming.// Larabee tried to assure the shaken man. //Where are you?// Chris was driven to his knees by the onslaught of sensory information. //STOP! **Hurts!**// Larabee reached out desperately as Vin tried to cut the contact between them.** //**Pard it's alright. You just have to remember I can't handle that kind of input.//

//Guide.// Tanner's touch was apologetic. //WHO?//

"He doesn't recognize me. He just knows I'm guide." Chris reported. "Nate?"

"Are you **The Guide** or is one of the others?" Adam asked. _I'd bet my bar bill that Larabee is but I haven't seen them interact with the Sentinel yet. _

"He said we all were guides," Nathan answered. "Chris, this guy is as close to the instruction manual as we got right now." Jackson responded to Larabee's scowl. "Larabee is the one he turns to the most though."

"Tell him that you're his guide." Adam ordered.

//Chris, **your's** Vin.// Larabee 'said'.

**//MINE!//** Tanner's attention locked on the other man. **//I come.//**

//Others hunt you. Do you still have your prisoner? Are you in the cave? It is a good place. I will come. The pack hunts brother, we come..// It took considerable coaxing on Larabee's part before Vin finally acquiesced.

//Stay? So alone.// Vin 'asked' hesitantly.

//I'll stay. Vin did you fall? Hit your head or something?// Chris 'asked'.

//Don' 'member.// Tanner answered weakly.

//Hey, what's got you distracted cowboy?// Chris asked as Tanner seemed to lose focus.

//Singin', sounds real perty.// Vin 'answered'.

"Vin's mind is wandering. He's hearing things now," Chris reported worriedly.

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Caleb Waverly crept forward onto the stone ledge slipping out of the underbrush with barely a leaf moving to mark his passage. "Not as high as I'd like. I'll have to adjust for shooting up hill. Only have a ten foot field of fire but it'll have to do. Get out of here and take your ground pounders with you. You're disturbing me." Waverly giggled and looked back over his shoulder at Capt. Belcher as he rolled out his shooting mat and carefully set up his equipment in a precise manner. "I love to see their faces as they die," he said sweetly. The insane look in his eyes caused a shiver of fear to run down Belcher's spine.

_This bastard is crazy as a loon._ "I'll get the men out of here so you can concentrate," Belcher nodded and carefully backed out of sight. _Wouldn't put it past him to shoot me in the back. _

"Waverly wants us to back off so we don't disturb him," Belcher informed his men.

"He's already disturbed," a heartfelt whisper was heard.

"Hope a squirrel gets him, he's nuts," another man agreed faintly.

_None of them will turn their backs on him. _Belcher noted as each man carefully stayed under the over hang and out of view of the insane sharpshooter.

"Be doing the world a favor if he was taken out by friendly fire, Captain," a man hissed as he passed by.

_I'm seriously thinking about it. What in hell is the Colonel thinking killing a cop? _Belcher worried silently as they moved on down the trail leaving Waverly to his killing field.

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"We're out of time," Jim hissed as he saw a helicopter circle around and land in the clearing below Dragon's Nest. Swinging an AR-15 onto his back he began to climb a large tree.

"Jim?" Blair looked up as his sentinel disappeared in the upper branches.

"Junior's only chance is if I take out the sniper," Ellison growled.

"Wouldn't the sniper be after Benson instead of Vin?" H asked hesitantly.

"If they're this serious about Benson then they won't take any chances on what he might have told Vin," Jim answered flatly. "Vin's a loose end."

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Chris, Nathan and the immortals reached the emergency crew before they attempted to climb onto the ledge.

"Best to let Chris go first. Vin's armed and no telling what kind of state of mind he's in. Wouldn't want him to shoot one of you because of a misunderstanding," Nathan cut the rescue team off letting Chris make the climb alone.

"Chris coming in," Larabee called softly. //Vin it's me, don't shoot alright?//

//Guide?// Vin questioned in relief.

"Yeah Cowboy, it's me. You about ready to get out of here?" Chris gently settled down beside the injured man. "How about letting me have the gun, Pard?" Larabee urged.

"Cain't hold on to it anymore no how," Vin admitted before passing out.

"Stubborn little shit aren't you," Larabee chuckled as he secured the loose gun and then began acquiring the rest of the Texan's arsenal.

"Nate come ahead," Larabee called.

"He tried to kill me," Benson woke up and began to rant.

"Lucky for you it was Tanner and not me. I would have," Chris said seriously before the other men reached them.

"Your Laddie is a man I have to admire." Connor chuckled as he looked down on Benson. "He's got this one trussed up like a Christmas goose."

"Get me loose," Benson hissed furiously.

"No handcuff key." Connor smirked.

"Larabee, you want to turn this piece of trash loose?" Adam said.

Benson's complaints cut off abruptly as he met Pierson's eyes. _This one has a killer's eyes. _Benson shivered faintly and lay perfectly still.

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"We need to transport him now," the medic looked up after a quick examination of Tanner.

"How do you want to do this?" Nathan asked softly. "He's got a curvature of the spine that gives him some trouble time to time and he landed a bit hard after falling out of the plane."

"He fell out of a plane?" The second medic made a note on his chart.

"Sure did 1,500 feet and no chute," Nathan smiled faintly as he patted Vin's leg. _Gonna give him hell for getting tore up this way as soon as we get him patched up. _

"You're kidding right?" the first medic demanded in disbelief.

"No, he fell out. Can't wait to hear this story," Nathan chuckled.

Vin woke with a scream as they shifted him on to a stretcher.

"Sorry Vin, we're getting you off this hunk of rock," Nathan soothed.

A soft whisper of sound seemed to emanate from the cave.

"Guess he really did hear singing," Chris breathed.

"There must be a draft of some kind," Nathan muttered.

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Chris stood guard over the stretcher bearing Benson while Adam and Connor carried it toward the helicopter. Suddenly Benson's head . . . exploded in a spray of blood and Adam collapsed.

"Sniper!" Chris bellowed. "Get under cover." Grabbing Adam he rolled into the bushes. Helplessly he turned back in time to watch as Vin's body jerked from an impact before Nathan and the medics could drag the unconscious man behind a rock ledge.

"Damn that hurt," Adam grumbled as he sat up. "At least this shirt was already ruined," he grumbled.

"Nathan?" Chris demanded shakily.

"He's still breathing Chris that's all I can tell you," Nathan held a pressure bandage against Vin's skull. Tears ran down his face hopelessly as he waited for the stuttered breathing to stop.

"Lucky this ridge of rock is here to shield us." Connor happily patted the rough stone.

_Guess I was too fixed on Vin but I could have sworn this wasn't here a minute ago. _Larabee pressed himself tightly against the warm stone trying to stay out of the sniper's line of fire.

A short time later the co-pilot ran up. "Got an all clear. The shooter was taken out."

"Let's move people," the medics hoisted Vin's litter and ran for the chopper.

"I'm sorry but the rules say we have to transport the corpse. We're not qualified to declare death. There's no room for you aboard," Miller, one of the medic's lay a restraining hand on Larabee's shoulder. "I promise to take care of your man. We're going to Seacouver General," he said sympathetically before hopping in the chopper and dogging the door closed.

Silently the men watched as the chopper flew away. "Time to get off this peak," Connor urged the mortals into motion.

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Jim collapsed against the trunk of the tree once he reached the ground. Shaking hands kept rubbing his eyes and rubbing through his hair.

"Jim?" Blair gently grasped Ellison's wrists stopping the motion.

"Couldn't spot him. That sniper was damn good. Couldn't find him until his first shot. I lined up, perfect spine shot. I must have missed," Jim said hoarsely. "He got off another shot before I put one through his ear. Benson's dead and Vin . . . Vin's headshot."

Wordlessly Blair pulled the bigger man against him and rocked comfortingly. "Vin's dead?"

"They treated him like he was still alive. Moving in a hurry." Jim snuffled the loose curls against his nose.

"Then don't write him off," H growled. "Man's fallen out of two airplanes and no telling what else. Bullet probably bounced off." H patted Ellison's shoulder.

A warm weight settled against Jim and Blair. Idly Ellison petted the heavy head laying in his lap. A soothing purr soon filled the air.

"Jim?" Rafe asked softly.

"Yeah."

"Vin's spirit animal is a mountain lion?" Bryn Rafe questioned.

"Yeah, the skinny cougar that was in Major Crimes," Jim sighed lifting his head off Blair's shoulder. His hand stopped petting as he stared down at the big cat contentedly chewing on the edge of Blair's backpack. Sapphire eyes twinkled mischievously, remarkably similar to another set.

"Does this mean Vin's going to be alright?" Blair gasped.

"How should I know Darwin. You're the brainiac," Ellison laughed faintly and gently petted the cat one more time before it disappeared.


	10. Chapter 10

Seacouver General Hospital

Buck was pacing miserably from one end of the room to the other. Josiah and JD lay in their hospital beds simply wishing they were allowed to pace along side of him.

"Buck, I give you my solemn word that I will not leave this room. Go check on Ezra," Josiah urged for the third time.

"Me too," JD crossed his heart.

"They said they'd call once he was out of surgery," Buck growled and paced some more.

Duncan MacLeod slipped into the room and sighed. _Worried to death the three of them. _"Compliments of the nursing staff," Mac said holding out a tray containing milk cartons. "They said you would not be needing caffeine."

"Aw Hell, Junior," Buck stopped pacing and wiped an errant tear off his cheek.

"You think Chris has found him yet?" JD asked faintly as he took a carton of milk off the tray.

"No telling, son," Josiah answered smiling faintly as he remembered how Vin nurtured the team the time Buck got hurt just after the Texan had joined them. _Does a body good. You sure do son, now hurry back._

"ATF Team 7?" a perky young aide peeked in the room.

"That's us darlin'," Buck smiled faintly. _Pretty little thing. _

"Dr. Bearheart said to tell you that Ezra Standish is in recovery," she flashed a coy smile toward JD.

"Go on Buck, you know Ezra's going to worry," JD urged.

Nodding Wilmington darted out the door then came back to the aide. "Darlin' where is surgical recovery in this hospital?" he asked sheepishly.

"Third floor, it's marked well but you have to ring in," she warned as Wilmington took off once more.

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"Standish?" Buck asked as he approached the nurse's station.

"You are, sir?" A gentle-faced, matronly looking nurse asked kindly.

"Wilmington, Buck Wilmington."

"Mr. Standish keeps asking for you." The nurse smiled in relief. "He's very agitated, perhaps you can settle him for us?"

"Sure Evelyn," Buck agreed as he checked out the name on her tag.

"Right this way, Mr. Wilmington," Evelyn Garfield buzzed the door open.

"Ez, lay down you've just had surgery," Buck growled, hurrying over and gently lowering the Southerner back down.

"Vin?" Ezra asked faintly.

"No news yet," Buck admitted. Dragging a chair over with his foot he sat down holding Ezra's hand calmly.

_Mother Hen, only Buck could be so natural at holding another man's hand. _Ezra thought sleepily. Squeezing Buck's fingers gently he dozed back off.

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"Buck?" Ezra asked groggily.

"They're just moving you to your room," Buck soothed.

"Vin?" Ezra asked once more.

"Ezra, I want you to wake up, alright?" Buck urged.

"You have my attention," Ezra drawled drowsily.

"Vin's coming in on a chopper now. I don't know how serious. JD and Josiah have been admitted," Buck listed.

"Chris will need you," Ezra's eyes revealed his growing alertness.

"I don't want to leave you alone, pard," Buck looked torn. "Would it be alright if MacLeod stays with you until I can work something out?"

"The dark haired Scotsman?" Ezra questioned.

"Yeah," Buck waited patiently.

"Keep me informed," Ezra ordered. "Buck, take care of my brothers."

"Sure will. Now go back to sleep," Wilmington gently tucked the conman in.

"He gets chilled easy," Buck warned MacLeod. "And he can be combative if he gets scared."

"I'll take care of this one. Do not forget to tell JD and Josiah what is going on." Duncan reminded.

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Buck arrived in emergency in time to see Vin wheeled past. _Is he dead? _Buck's heart plummeted to his feet as the far too still body was taken into an examination room. Wilmington waited for the chopper medic to take care of business before he tried to question the man.

"How bad is he?" Buck asked sharply.

"I'm not able to give you that kind of information," the medic turned. Looking up at the distraught man he hesitated. "He's alive. They've got some damn fine doctors here."

Buck took a deep breath and sighed. "Chris Larabee, Nathan Jackson? he asked softly as another gurney rolled by. This one was rolled in at a sedate pace. _Benson's dead then. Good riddance to bad rubbish. But where's Chris and Nate? _

"We didn't have room on the chopper for them. They did know where we were coming," the medic assured him. "Tanner's stats were strong."

Buck looked slightly more relaxed. _Poor Nate, Chris is going to be a powder keg. _

"Better get some security on Tanner. They were trying to kill him out there," the medic reported.

"Benson's out of the picture now," Buck growled.

"Tanner was shot by a sniper after Benson was dead," the medic revealed.

"SHIT! Can't we get a break," Wilmington huffed.

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Dragon's Nest

Chris finished talking to Sheriff Blackhawk and sighed. "Looks like we're hanging out here until the forensic team arrives. We can get a ride back with their driver.

"Means I have to walk back down this mountain?" Nathan asked miserably.

"Afraid so," Chris said. _Not like Nate to complain. Hell, he's in the best shape of any of us except maybe Vin._

Grumbling Nathan made his way over to a convenient rock ledge and sat down on a large flattened section. Carefully he worked the laces on his boots loose and toed off the boot. Grunting the medic gingerly peeled the sock off and stared at the foot.

"Shit," Chris growled looking at the damage. "Nate?"

"Wet boots," Nathan grunted. "Believe it or not I never felt it until that chopper took off." Jackson stared at the blisters and places rubbed bloody.

"Is the other one this bad?" Adam asked calmly. Kneeling down he began to unlace the other boot.

"Yeah," Nathan muttered.

Pierson began to sort through Nathan's medical kit setting out items he thought would be needed.

"You act like you know what you're doing." Chris remarked.

"I'm a licensed doctor several times over." Adam smirked.

Nathan pulled back his barefoot when Pierson's examination proved to be painful. "Yeah, in what century?"

"Medicine is a fairly new interest. I first practiced in the 12th century," Adam chuckled grabbing the foot once more. "I don't believe it will be necessary to bleed you."

Nathan's eyes widened.

"Actually modern doctors could learn quite a bit if they'd study some of the medical treaties of the Middle East and China of that period. Of course Europe was hopelessly backward. I spent a great deal of time in the far east back then. A bath when your born and another when you die," Adam shuddered theatrically. "The only dependable measure of civilization is the effectiveness of their plumbing."

"There now, all done. Get that seen to as soon as possible. That will be one roasting chicken or a wheel of cheese," Adam grinned as he looked up. "For further remuneration I will have my man here carry you down the hill. Pierson indicated the scowling Connor MacLeod.

7777777

Ellison stared down at the still body of the sniper. _He looks familiar, shouldn't be hard finding out who this one was. Must not have missed after all. _Jim leaned closer to examine the dead man's neck. _Doesn't make sense that shot should have severed the spinal cord. _

"Jim, forensics is here. We can get a ride back to the truck with the deputy that brought them out. Tanner has been taken to Seacouver General. I figure the rest of the team will show up there," Blair reported.

"Let's go," Ellison started down the rock ledge to the waiting truck.

7777777

Seacouver General Hospital

While Jackson was having his feet treated, Chris made contact with Buck.

"Junior is in surgery, Pard. That's all I can tell you," Buck answered the unasked question. "He was breathing on his own when he went up." _That's a good sign isn't it? If his brains were scrambled too bad he wouldn't be able to breath. What the hell do I know?_

"Gentlemen I'll rejoin you shortly. I need to clean up if possible," Adam indicated his bloodstained clothing. _I have something that needs to be taken care of. _

"I could use some washing as well," Connor smiled warmly.

"Vin's in surgery," Chris reported. "No updates yet."

"Let's check on the rest of them on the way to the waiting room then," Nathan suggested.

"If you don't mind we would like to join you there," Pierson asked.

"I'm not good company," Chris warned.

"No one can be good company without a bar," Adam sniffed.

7777777

"Looks so damn innocent when he's stoned doesn't he, Chris?" Jackson muttered looking in the door at the sleeping Standish. Duncan MacLeod nodded a greeting from his chair in the corner.

7777777

"Chris," JD sat up immediately. Josiah smiled in relief as his team mates appeared then frowned at Nathan's condition.

"Wet boots, I've got blisters," Nathan admitted sheepishly.

"Didn't you learn anything in the army, son. Always carry extra socks," Josiah chuckled.

"They're in the lake," Nate snapped.

"Vin?" JD interrupted.

"Surgery, we haven't heard anything yet. I promise to let you know as soon as we hear anything," Chris cut off the questions. "Do you need anything before we head up to the waiting room?"

"No, we're fine aren't we John Daniel," Josiah assured them.

"Chris?" Buck studied the other man and relaxed a bit. "Think I'll hang out here for awhile." _Chris is a lot calmer than I expected. _

7777777

Seacouver General Hospital Morgue

"Connor if you would be so kind as to distract the staff please. I'll take care of this bit of unfinished business," Adam said calmly.

"It will be no trouble at all," Connor slipped off. Soon the Highlander was ranting at the desk. Demanding to know what they had done with his poor Uncle Oscar.

Methos smiled faintly and slipped by the harried staff and into the quiet room. _I've timed it just right. _

A groan filled the air and a still body jerked and gasped. Slowly Benson sat up and looked around in disbelief, unaware of the shadow standing at his back.

"There can be only one and it won't be you," Methos smoothly slipped the scalpel in and severed the newly born immortal's spine. Neatly the erstwhile surgeon decapitated the body. _You'll not be coming back to terrorize any more children. _Grasping the edge of the autopsy table in his clenched hands Methos rode out the small quickening. _Hardly more than an electric failure. Not even a broken window. _Pocketing the scalpel the oldest immortal crept from the room unseen and made his way over to Connor.

"Willie calm down now. Uncle Oscar is over at the Veterans Hospital not here. I just spoke to Aunt Aggie." Methos soothed patting Connor's shoulder.

"Veterans? Oh I'm terribly sorry to have made such a scene," Connor flushed and hurried down the hall with Methos lecturing him on being a hothead every step of the way.

Once out of earshot Connor hissed in Gaelic. "You took his head?"

"Yes, I took his head. Not enough quickening to light a lightbulb," Methos snorted.

"Let's go keep watch on the pack then," Connor suggested.

7777777

Waiting Room

"You're Chris Larabee?, a slender silvering haired man in scrubs entered the waiting room.

"Yes," Chris answered faintly. _Oh God, Cowboy._

"Mr. Tanner is out of surgery and on his way to recovery. I understand it would be best if you sit with him," the doctor reassured Chris.

Larabee nodded with a sigh of relief.

"If you'd like to come with me I'll give you a rundown on his surgery and the prognosis on his recovery," the doctor's dark eyes revealed his exhaustion.

"Nate, come on," Larabee gently woke Jackson before he moved the wheel chair.

"What?" Nate straightened.

"Vin's out of surgery," Chris explained. "Doc here is gonna fill us in."

The three men entered a private conference room.

"Calm down, Gentlemen. I just need the light board here to show you some x-rays." the doctor calmed the men. Little conference rooms were not conducive to good news.

"Since you hold Mr. Tanner's medical power of attorney, I can go over his case with you. This other gentlemen on the other hand." the doctor hesitated.

"Nathan Jackson, Vin's physician and teammate. He's my medical translator so you can go ahead and tell us. I'm going to be telling the rest of the team anyway," Chris growled.

"Very well. Sorry, I never introduced myself, Amos Simpson," the doctor held out his hand.

"How bad?" Chris demanded.

"He's alive, which is frankly impossible. This boy is going to be held up as an example of why you never give up on a patient. I'm going to start at his feet and work my way up. He has several stress fractures in the bones of both feet as well as some deep bruising but those should heal well. The left ankle is broken here." The doctor put an x-ray film on the board and indicated the spot. "The right ankle is sprained but we didn't find any fractures. This is Mr. Tanner's thigh." Simpson put another x-ray film up on the light board. "See this, the rod in his leg is bent. Don't ask me how, this kind of thing just doesn't happen. We had to remove it. The original damage had healed so well we didn't replace it. We had to remove this section of bone in order to remove the rod. We then replaced that section and pinned it. The leg will be in traction for the next ten to twelve weeks. Legs break but a metal rod does not bend. The manufacturer is going to want the rod to do some testing. That kid is just one big bruise. The bullet's force must have almost been spent when it struck his abdomen. There was amazingly little damage although he is missing a few inches of intestine. The leakage into his abdomen was minimal, it should clear up fairly easily. Four fractured ribs." the doctor glossed over the less traumatic injury. "Quite a bit of muscle and ligament damage to his right arm and shoulder. I'd say the shoulder was out of joint at some point. You'd think someone almost pulled it off. Some severe bruising of the right wrist and forearm." Doctor Simpson took a deep breath and changed the x-rays on the board. "This is the real issue."

"Oh shit," Nathan hissed leaning forward he used his finger to trace the bullets trajectory on the x-rays of Vin's head. From behind the left ear to where a dark lump rested above his left eye.

_Better that he died then to be a vegetable. Vin wouldn't want that. _Chris's shoulders slumped. "What's that dark area?" Larabee indicated a dark section of skull.

"At some point Mr. Tanner suffered a severe head injury and a metal plate was used during the reconstruction," Dr. Simpson answered. Simpson put another film up on the board. Sitting back the doctor grinned.

"What am I looking at?" Chris growled.

"That gentlemen is a genuine miracle," Dr. Simpson said sincerely. "It's what you're not looking at," Simpson laughed. "There is** no** bullet path through the brain. The bullet entered here above and behind the left ear. It struck the plate a glancing blow, then penetrated the skull here. It circled the inside of his skull and became lodged in the sinus cavity above his left eye. There is nothing to indicate the brain was damaged beyond some minor swelling consistent with a mid-level concussion. He's going to have a headache you wouldn't believe, probably for several weeks, the neurosurgeon didn't foresee any lasting problems. I'd suggest that Mr. Tanner buys a lottery ticket with the kind of luck he has. Do you have any questions?" Simpson asked.

"His brain scans?" Nathan asked faintly.

"This is a normal brain scan, this is Mr. Tanner's. I'm not sure what's going on in there but something sure is," Amos Simpson looked fascinated.

"You need to be aware Vin does get migraines," Nathan warned.

"Duly noted," Simpson scribbled on his note pad. "Gentlemen do be aware that it will be months even perhaps as much as a year before Mr. Tanner is fully recovered.

Chris nodded seriously. "You are aware that Vin was having vision trouble before he was shot in the head?"

"Yes the specialist believes that it is a temporary problem brought about by an earlier concussion. Now can I ask a question?" Simpson asked. "What happened to that boy?"

"Today's injuries started when he fell out of an airplane," Nathan answered softly.

"You're kidding?" Simpson's eyes widened.

"1,500 feet and no parachute . . . ," Nathan settled back to tell the story of their day.

"Can I sit with Vin?" Chris interrupted.

"Certainly, they're expecting you," Simpson answered distractedly.


	11. Chapter 11

3:05 am Tuesday

It was 3:05 am in the surgical wing of Seacouver General Hospital when a large dark haired man darted into the hall and ducked to the right. The clang and clatter of a metal bedpan filled the air as it was launched into the hall striking a wall and falling onto the hard tile floor narrowly missing its intended target.

"No! Ah do not want to calm down. I want to know about my compatriot. Where in heavens name is everyone? Have they gotten completely lost without Mistah Tannah to point the correct direction? Surely at least one of those heathens could have the decency to keep me informed!" A hoarse voice carried clearly into the hall. The southern drawl thickening the words into syrup.

_He's in fine voice just to have had lung surgery. Standish had to have an accomplice, we don't even__** have**__ metal bedpans anymore. I may just stick this one in the fridge and give that southern pain in the ass a suppository. _Nursing supervisor Randall Matthews lay down his dog-eared paperback on the nursing station desk with a frustrated sigh.

The tall, handsome Duncan MacLeod shrugged sheepishly and picked up the bedpan laying it on a nearby gurney. "He's worried about his friend and he is frustrated. Is there still no news since Tanner was taken to surgery?"

"No, Mr. MacLeod. I promise, he'll be told as soon as we get any news," Randy assured the other man.

The call light on room 371 was once more flashing. His three nurses and four aids studiously ignored the flashing light. Randy softly cleared his throat and sent a speaking glance toward the room only to be pinned by the combined glares of his team. _I'm going to have a revolt if I don't do something. _Pulling the doctor's orders on Standish he searched for **anything** that he could do to return things to the normal quiet routine.

Nathan Jackson limped off the elevator and sighed deeply. _So much for snatching a few minutes sleep in Ezra's room. _The exhausted Jackson stared at the flashing light. _I know he's worried about Vin but that's no reason to make these poor folks suffer._

Duncan's dark eyes lit with relief as he spotted Nathan. A wide smile and a half hearted wave were seen as MacLeod rushed into the elevator and pushed the down button. A comment in Gaelic was heard as the doors shut.

_Bet his momma would have washed his mouth out with soap for whatever that meant. _Nathan chuckled faintly. _Ezra P. Standish has that effect on a whole lot of folks. _

Randy looked at his watch and then back at the orders. "**Hadol!** There is a God!" The huge man smiled widely, opened the locked drug cabinet and grabbed a bottle along with a syringe before heading down the hall at a trot. In his hurry to reach the now fuming Standish he never noticed the arrival of Nathan and MacLeod's flight.

Relieved smiles brightened the faces of the exhausted nursing staff as high fives were exchanged. A Southern accented voice raised in strident protest. After several minutes Randy exited the room flashing a V for victory sign. He was singing to the tune of an old Simon and Garfunkle song The Sounds of Silence softly by the time he reached his nurses in a pleasant baritone.

Hello Haldol, my old friend

My patient's waking up again

And a vision of a quiet night

Left in shambles by a nurse call-light

And the novel, dog-eared, and open-spread

Remains unread

Yearns for the sound of silence

His restless dreams and constant moans

Like a airplane motor drones

Co-workers, to my surprise

Turn a deaf-ear to the groans and cries

Their eyes, like daggers flying across the night

Say, "Make it right,

Regain the sound of silence."

And in the MAR it was

The Haldol order drew applause

"Two milligrams IM PRN

Q 4 hours administration"

Down the hall I ran with meds to make things right

Bring back the night

Return the sound of silence

In the glute the Haldol goes

Although the patient did oppose

He scratched and clawed and fought with flair

Tried to bite me, and grab my hair

But I persisted, like a shadow in the dark

I hit my mark

Wait for the sound of silence

Co-workers showered me with praise

Looked at me so much amazed

As the shift returned to normalcy

At the 'O-sign' that was forming

And the veil of night slowly returned as I penned this dirge

We sat submerged

In the thunderous silence

Hushed laughter filled the air as the staff scattered to take care of duties the Southerner had put on hold.

Nathan chuckled and shook his head. _No telling how many times I've wanted to do that myself. _"I liked the song."

Randy winced and looked guilty as Nathan approached. "It really was time for his meds." The big man muttered. Jackson just winked and heavily limped into Ezra's room.

"Ezra can you hear me?" Nathan leaned over the bed and shook Standish lightly.

"Mistah Jackson?" Ezra struggled to open his eyes.

"Vin's out of surgery. He's doing real good. He'll be coming straight up here after he's out of recovery." Nathan reported.

"Here?" Ezra blinked and mumbled.

"Soon. Now you stop giving these nice folks problems and go to sleep," Nathan slowly ran his finger from between Ezra's eyes to the tip of his nose. Ezra's eyelids drooped as he tried to follow the finger's movements. Slowly the glazed green eyes popped back open. Once more Jackson traced his finger down the conman's nose settling into a soothing rhythm. The eyelids lowered and didn't rise again. _Nice of Vin to teach me this trick. Works like a charm on everyone but Josiah. And man is it going to piss Chris off when he finds out Tanner puts him out this way. _

"Good boy," Nathan whispered. _Now to warn the nurses about Vin. _Jackson straightened with an exhausted sigh before heading out to the nurse's station.

"Hate to tell you this but things are going to get worse," Nathan said as he leaned against the counter looking down at Matthews.

"**Worse?**" Randy growled.

"Trouble is out of surgery and in recovery. You'll be getting him in about three hours," Jackson said sympathetically.

"Three hours?" Randy questioned.

"Vin has an awful time coming out from under anesthesia." Nathan winced.

"You call him Trouble?" Matthews groaned.

"Vin Tanner, polite, shy and the worse patient I've ever known. The only thing worse is when him and the Imp of the Perverse in there are **both** sick." Nathan grimaced, indicating Standish's room and shaking his head.

"Imp of the Perverse? Standish? Man does that fit." Randy rolled his eyes.

"A word to the wise. Unless you want to spend all your time trying to apprehend escaping patients, put those two in together. Otherwise they'll go looking for each other. They'll still be trouble but only half as much," Nathan explained. "Should be in the orders but sometimes the clerical staff doesn't write it up."

Randy Matthews scowled. "Just what I need."

"If you're willing to listen I've got a few suggestions that'll make your job easier," Jackson offered.

"I'm all ears," the big nurse answered.

"Both of them have real issues with being helpless. Give them plenty of time to know you're there. Don't touch them if they're asleep. **NEVER** touch them if they're having a nightmare. Call one of the team if you need help. Absolutely **do not restrain **either one of them. Ezra's damn near as bad but Vin will pull out stitches and break bones trying to get loose. Between the drugs and memories Vin might have some flashbacks. It shouldn't be a problem for you though, since they aren't going to be left alone. Oh and don't let Vin have pants, it'll keep him in bed, won't slow Ez down but Vin's shy.

Things are going to be . . . interesting for a few days. None of the team is left alone in the hospital especially Vin and Ezra. So you're going to have all seven of us underfoot at some point. JD and Josiah are going to be released in a few hours so move a couple of comfortable recliners in for them. The rest of us will make do with chairs. Believe me it will be easier on you this way." Nathan smiled faintly, his bloodshot eyes revealed his exhaustion.

"This is a copy of the official, unofficial hospital orders on Team 7. It'll just make things easier all the way around. These are posted at every hospital and most of the clinics in Denver." Nathan sighed and rubbed his aching head.

"They have a warning sheet out on them?" Randy's eyes narrowed as he began to read the print out. "Which one is Wilmington?"

"Tall, mustache, dark hair. Believe me, you'll recognize him in a hurry," Nathan smiled weakly.

"Larabee?" Randy demanded.

"That description doesn't even come close." Nathan said ruefully. "Honest though he won't give you any crap if you treat the boys good. **ANYTHING** that might scare or upset one of them, you tell Chris first. Explain why it needs done. Not just 'doctor's orders' but if it's really necessary and why. If he says no and you **really** think it's needed come to me." Jackson shifted his weight and straightened up with a groan.

"Why don't you slip in there and grab a few minutes of shut-eye. We won't tattle if you use that second bed," Randy urged.

"Thanks," Nathan nodded before he made his way to room 371.

**7777777 **

Buck Wilmington and Chris Larabee entered Ezra's room just before 7:00 am. Sticking his head out Buck smiled tiredly. "Hey Darlin, you want to dig up a cot so I can shift Nate out of Vin's bed. Junior's on his way up and he's gonna need it." _Going to give him hell. What does he mean traipsing around here on those feet. We put him in a wheelchair for a reason. Pigheaded as the rest of this bunch. _

"I've got it Patti," Randy rolled a cot into the room.

"You can flirt with my nurses as long as I don't get any complaints. My ladies get upset I get upset and you're going to need one of these beds." Randy put a big fist on each hip.

"Ole Buck doesn't like the ladies mad at him." Buck smiled genially. "Tell you what, if I make 'em mad, I'll apologize and then I'll let you thump me good."

_Male nurses. One of my ladies comes in here alone and I'll never get her back. _Scowling at Buck, Randy sighed.

**7777777**

"Heads up people, we're getting a roommate for Standish," Randy warned his staff at 7:30 am as a gurney was rolled off the elevator.

"Poor man," several soft mutters were heard.

"The patient's name is Tanner, Devin known as Vin. He's had a lot of trouble in recovery. Anesthesia is not this guy's friend. Be warned he's combative if he's scared and hospitals seem to scare him. He's blind so make sure you don't sneak up on him." Randy warned.

"Man, what happened to him?" Matthews blurted, staring down at the patient's chart. "Broken ankle, sprained ankle, bullet wound to his right abdomen, busted ribs, wrenched right shoulder, sprained wrist and elbow. He's just one big bruise. Hmm, they had to remove a rod from his left femur. He managed to bend it? How do you do that?" _Talk about luck I don't know if this is the luckiest or unluckiest guy in the world. _"He's gonna have a horrible headache. He was shot in the head on top of everything else."

Gently Tanner was moved from the gurney onto the bed. IVs were positioned, ice packs packed around the injured limbs. Blankets tucked in with several gentle pats and the staff slipped from the room leaving the patient in the care of his hovering teammates.

"Take care of him, he's a real sweetheart," Becky from recovery peeked into the room. Once more the intimidating Larabee was seated by Tanner's bed, a comforting hand wrapped around Vin's forearm.

"We will," Randy promised. _Must be something real special. Becky isn't an easy touch. This poor kid's been through hell. There's scars on top of scars__. _

**7777777**

Randy froze in his tracks as he started into room 371. A large man with icy blue eyes and short receding brown hair was sitting in a hard back chair guarding the door. _Where'd this one come from? He doesn't fit any of the descriptions on the 'list'. _"Meds" the nurse explained his presence.

Jim Ellison nodded and settled deeper into the chair. Silently he sat keeping watch over this part of the damaged pack.

"Temps and meds?" Nathan asked as he limped out of the bathroom.

"Yes," Matthews answered. "I wanted to check on these two myself before I go off shift."

"Vin, the nurse is here and is going to be doing some stuff so don't fight him," Chris ordered.

Tanner's grip on Larabee's forearm tightened.

"Hey Vin, my name's Randy. I'm just checking on things. I'll tell you before I touch you alright?" The big man's voice settled into a soothing purr.

"East Tennessee?" Vin asked drowsily.

"Close, North Carolina, now how'd you know that?" Randy chuckled.

"Southern drawl with a mountain twang," Vin relaxed slightly. "Sounds like the Sarge."

"What happened to ya'll anyway?" Randy asked curiously as he administered the drugs into the IV and replaced a bag of fluid.

"Junior fell out of an airplane," Buck chuckled.

"WHAT?" Randy looked up from his notes with a jerk. The dark eyes darted from one man to the next waiting for someone to let him in on the joke.

"1,500 feet and no parachute." Nathan shook his head still not quite able to wrap his mind around the fact.

"Did not," Vin rasped. "I jumped when I found out Ez was drivin'."

"Mr. Tanner, please do not malign my skills further. I am an excellent pilot," Ezra protested.

"Where'd you **land** that plane?" Vin demanded.

Ezra humphed and refused to speak.

"He set it down in a lake." Larabee's lips twitched.

"It sink?" Vin asked.

"Yep, damn near took Buck, Ez and I with it," Chris answered.

"Tolt yah, seems ta me I'se safer jumpin'," Vin huffed.

"Exactly how many bones did you break?" Ezra sniffed in return.

"These two always like this?" Randy asked Buck softly.

"Nah, the drugs are slowing them down some," Wilmington chuckled.

"He **really** fell out of a airplane?" the nurse demanded.

"Yep, snagged him a ride on the way down," Buck smiled widely.

"He's got to be the luckiest dude I've ever met," Randy muttered.

"Mr. Tanner, I need to get your stats. This doohickey beeps so don't let the noise bother you, alright?"

"Go ahead," Vin tensed once more.

"Day shift is coming on and Nurse Supervisor C. Beth Starling runs a tight ship. She started out as an army nurse and well . . . You might want to limit the number of visitors and keep things kosher. It will make it more pleasant," Randy said, his body language revealed just how poorly he thought of the other Supervisor. "That fella in the hall needs to move or leave," Matthews suggested. _She's going to try and throw her weight around. _

"Hall?" Vin asked faintly.

"Ellison," Chris answered.

"Det. Ellison will be remaining with us. Mr. Tanner has been attacked twice and is in protective custody," Ezra retorted.

* * *

The parody of Sounds of Silence is something I found on the internet, sadly I can't find the site again but it was written by a male nurse.


	12. Chapter 12

You could feel the change in atmosphere at the shift change. Nursing Supervisor C. Beth Starling came on post, her gimlet eyes searched for any infraction in **her** little kingdom. Voices dropped to hushed whispers and nurses scuttled about their duties much like mice trying to avoid the attention of a prowling cat.

Amy Walls, the junior most of the nurses, gulped and hurriedly lined up the patient charts.

Scowling Starling drew her finger down the counter top of the nursing station. A faint humph greeted the spotless fingertip. With a tiny nod the ex-army nurse stalked down the hall looking for anything out of place or not up to her exacting standards.

A deep sigh of relief and Amy lay her head down on the desk as Starling disappeared around a corner.

"Are you alright, Honey?" Sandy Jacobs asked softly laying a gentle hand on the young woman's tense shoulder.

"I've put in applications all over town. The Iron Maiden has written me up twice and it's only Tuesday. They must have been dancing in the streets when she left Washington," Amy groaned.

"Good for you. You get out of here while you can. I'll try to get transferred to emergency or something but I've got in too many years to leave," Sandy sighed. _After nine grievances you'd think the union would do something. This woman's a menace. _

"Randy said to read this and give the guys in 371 some slack if we can. The patient in bed 1 is blind and to announce ourselves before getting near him," Amy passed on the verbal orders as she slipped the print out on ATF team in with some other paperwork. They no longer wrote this kind of thing down since it . . . went against procedures.

7777777

Starling scowled as five men exited the elevator onto her floor. It was 7:49 am, visiting hours did not officially start until 10. Huffily she marched up intending to order them to leave her floor.

"Just where do you think you're going?" the battleaxe demanded. She towered over all but the grizzle haired Sanchez.

"We're going to check on Ez and Vin," JD's bright tone trailed off under the icy stare.

"Shift change already? Tanner and Standish seem to be resting peacefully." Ellison stepped out of Tanner's room and walked over standing protectively near Sandburg.

"You're the supervisor this shift?" Ellison looked down his nose at the now slightly less belligerent woman.

_An officer of some kind. Well he'll take off and I'll run things proper. _"Yes I am. C. Beth Starling and you are?" She growled.

"Detective James Ellison. The men in room 371 are in protective custody. I want a list of your nurses on duty. Assign two of them to that room and give me their names so I can run them through NICS. No one else in or out without going through me first," Jim ordered.

"H, you and Rafe split up guard duty however works best for you." Jim winked at his friends before turning back to the nurse. "What are you just standing there for. Get me those names now, Starling."

Huffily Nurse Supervisor Starling marched off.

"Jim?" Blair demanded.

"She's a bully. Has at least 3 of her staff in tears already. Most of them are looking for other jobs or trying to transfer out of here," Ellison growled.

"You can't fix the whole world man," H reminded bitterly. "You have to be careful or you leave it worse for the folks left behind."

"Protective custody?" Rafe asked softly. "Jim we're out of jurisdiction.

"She doesn't know that," Ellison growled protectively. "**NOBODY** is separating those men. Not if I can help it."

7777777

Josiah eased over to Vin's bed and looked down on the drowsing man. "How is he?" Almost reverently he stroked the limp curls sticking out from under the bandages.

"One whole hell of a lot better than any man should be," Nathan grunted. "Don't touch his head he's got to have a killer headache."

"Why's that?" JD asked in a whisper.

"He was shot," Nathan muttered.

"Oh God! How bad? JD paled.

"Let us say Vin's head really is as hard as Buck claims," Chris smirked and shook his head in disbelief.

"Musta been a .223, told yah it's too light of a round fer a sniper. I saw kill shots that didn't, the bullet just shattered instead of taking out bone. That's why I won't use it," Tanner grumbled.

"I, for one, am glad other people aren't so discerning. Welcome back son," Josiah rumbled softly.

"Got one hell of a grip there, preacher man," Vin hissed as he started to shift a bit seeking a less painful position for his arm and shoulder.

"You and I need to have a talk about that, Vin Tanner," Josiah growled softly.

"Needed done, didn't see no other way. **My** choice preacher, don' go beatin' yerself up over it," Tanner turned his head to face Sanchez.

Josiah sucked in a pained breath as Vin's bandaged eyes were revealed. "Vin?"

"What's wrong?" JD demanded trying to see around Sanchez.

"Vin's blind for now," Buck wrapped comforting arms around the shaken JD.

"Docs think it's only temporary," Chris tried to assure not only Vin but the rest of them as well.

After a long uncomfortable silence Ezra spoke calmly. "How long is Mr. Tanner going to be subjected to that torture device?" The conman watched as Vin attempted, once more, to move his left leg that was locked into a metal cage of bars, wires and pins placing traction on the broken limb.

"They think 6 to 8 weeks. Actually they're pretty amazed at how that leg healed before. They took the rod out and didn't bother to put it back," Nathan reported.

"Is that safe? I mean they left that rod in there for a reason," Buck asked.

"The bone knit back wonderfully. They wouldn't have taken the rod out except Evel Knievel there bent it when he landed. Broke the ankle as well but he never noticed anything as small as that." Nathan huffed.

"Nate I'se a might cold. Think you could wrangle me one of them toasty blankets?" Vin asked hopefully. The Texan's chattering teeth added emphasis to his request.

_And everyone thinks I'm manipulative. _Ezra mused to himself in amusement as Chris hit the call button and the other mobile members of the team headed out of the room in search of a heated blanket for their sharpshooter.

"Ah doubt a blanket will be of assistance considering the amount of ice Mr. Tanner has packed around his scrawny anatomy," Standish's words brought the movement to a halt.

"They do have him packed pretty good there don't they?" Buck mused peeking under the blanket.

"Quit that I ain't no peepshow," Vin swatted Buck's hand smartly with his left hand.

"Hey that hurt," Buck complained lowering the blanket gently.

"Rather good aim considering Mr. Tanner's current blindness and his lack of sobriety," Ezra chuckled faintly.

"Left handed too." JD reminded with a grin.

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"Knock, knock," a soft voice called. "Good morning gentlemen, my name is Amy Walls and I'll be your nurse this shift." Amy entered the room and waited to be acknowledged by the blind patient.

"Vin's asleep," Chris answered softly laying down his book.

"Good heavens," Amy glanced around the room at the sprawled bodies. "Which ones are my patients?"

Josiah Sanchez was sprawled back in a recliner, his damaged arm supported by a sling. His head was propped forward by a pillow in an effort to stop his thunderous snores.

JD Dunne was curled up in the other recliner snoring softly, his dark hair stuck up and out from underneath the white bandages wrapped around his head.

Buck Wilmington's exposed skin exhibited numerous vivid bruises and dark circles were under the exhausted man's eyes. His mouth hung slightly open as he leaned against JD's recliner sleeping soundly.

Nathan Jackson was laying belly down on the small fold out bed. A pillow covered his head while his bandaged feet hung off the end.

Chris looked around and grimaced as he looked at his team. "Only the **two** in the beds, the rest of 'em are my problem.

"Honey, you're going to have your hands full," Amy spluttered.

"What happened to this one?" Amy ran a soothing hand over JD's hair and pulled the blanket up, tucking it in around his shoulders.

"JD, bumped his head, mostly has a concussion," Chris sighed.

"Handsome here?" Amy asked in amusement as Buck tried to snuggle against her in his sleep.

"Buck got bumped around in the crash." Chris snorted at the typical Wilmington moves. _He'll even make a move on a woman in his sleep. _

"What in the world has he done to his feet?" Amy growled looking down at the spotted bandages on Nathan's feet.

"Oh, he walked about 20 miles in wet boots," Chris informed her maliciously

"You ought to send him to a first aid class," Amy muttered.

"Nathan's a doctor." Chris hid his grin.

"Humph," Amy glared down at the sleeping man. "Well you can teach 'em but you sure can't make 'em learn anything."

"This one?" Amy moved the pillow easing Sanchez's head into a more comfortable position, then gently repositioned the ice pack that had shifted. Josiah's grey eyes blinked open and he smiled sweetly.

"Thank you, sister," he mumbled before his eyes closed and a window rattling snore rumbled forth. Wincing Amy carefully put the pillow back in place.

"Sorry, I should have warned you. Josiah's a bit loud," Chris sighed. "Broken thumb, dislocated elbow."

"The accident?" Amy whispered pausing to make sure Josiah didn't wake.

"In a way, he lost his grip on Vin. Of course Tanner helped it along," Chris growled.

"Vin?" Amy looked at the pale man in the bed.

"No, that's Ezra. He drowned," Chris ducked his head. _Of course they're all asleep. Josiah could make this seem reasonable. Buck would distract her. _

"**Drowned!"** Amy hissed in an emphatic whisper.

"Well . . . yes when the plane crashed into the lake." Chris said widening his eyes and trying to look innocent. _Hell it works for JD and Vin, even Ezra can pull it off_.

Amy chewed on her lip a moment before writing down Ezra's stats on to his chart. "You all were in a plane when it crashed into a lake?"

"Vin wasn't, he fell out earlier." Chris winced. _Alright here come the guys in the white coats with the straight jacket for me. _

"He fell out of a plane?" Amy pointed at the sleeping Tanner in disbelief.

"Yes," Chris gritted. Taking a firm grasp on Vin's forearm he nodded for Amy to check on her patient. "Just the nurse, pard. No need to get upset," Chris crooned as Vin tensed, sensing a stranger nearby.

"Hi Vin, I'm Amy. I'll be done in just a second and leave you alone," Amy spoke soothingly as she took stats and checked all the tubing. Quickly she replaced the blanket and moved away.

Shaking her head at Chris she slipped from the room, disbelief easily seen on her face.

"Why in hell didn't you back me up Standish?" Larabee growled over as Ezra's eyes popped open and a smirk was seen on the Southerner's face.

"Mistah Larabee, need I remind you that my bloodstream is still laced with numerous mind altering medications? My assurances would be open to speculation as to their veracity at this time," Ezra drawled.

_Even drunk he talks circles around most people. _Chris glared at the unrepentant Standish. //Shut up Tanner!// Chris glared at the smirk lifting the corners of Vin's lips.

//Didn't say a thing, Cowboy.// Vin 'said'.

//Could have used some back up you know.// Chris 'protested'. //Southern pain-in-the-ass is too damn smug.//

//Yah don' say.// Tanner chuckled faintly.

//Hey Ez, You figure Chris'll getcher new drawers at Walmart? Think they'll be plain old white cotton Fruit of the Looms?// Vin 'asked'.

Ezra's eyes snapped open and he frowned deeply. Darting a confused green stare at Tanner's bed he asked. "Did you say something Mistah Tanner?"

Vin lay still feigning sleep. //I spoke with him, it's up to you now, cowboy. Enjoy yerself.//

"Vin didn't say anything Ezra, he's asleep," Chris answered sweetly. _Hearing things now Ez?_

An undisclosed office

unknown location

"Sir, Benson has been neutralized," The colonel reported, the familiar voice was projected by the speakerphone.

"Possible contacts and information leaks?" the elegant hand moved a white knight on his marble chessboard thereby taking a black knight.

"Only the ATF team had any extensive contact with Benson. It is highly unlikely that there was any leak," the colonel responded.

"Unlikely but possible, especially the agent that managed to retain custody. See that there is an acceptable outcome to the situation, Colonel," the man ordered in his cultured tone.

"Sir there is considerable activity around the target at this time. I would suggest pulling back and eliminating the problem later," the colonel's tone revealed concern.

"My contacts indicate over half the team has been hospitalized. Two are serious enough to be helpless, one of which is your target. Do you have a problem?" The cultured tone was icy. A manicured long fingered hand lifted a delicate antique china cup.

"Have your contacts noted that all seven men are in one room? Ex Ranger Captain James J. Ellison has a team guarding the door, Sir." The colonel responded flatly a faint 'stick that in your pipe and smoke it.' tone was evident.

"Ellison?" The cup paused in its motion. A slight drum of fingers on the chessboard was the only indications of concern.

"The Shepherd himself, sir," the colonel said.

"What has Ellison involved?" the cultured voice demanded.

"Benson was being held in Ellison's town for one thing. The target is one of Ellison's cubs, Sir," the colonel answered.

"Ellison's men are all dead," the cultured voice reminded coldly.

"One of them isn't and nobody is getting close to Poppa Ellison's baby. I'm not sure what's going on but the word is that the Watchers are stirring. I'm pulling out and regrouping. We can try another time, Sir. It's not like Benson had any real knowledge," the nameless colonel responded.

"Is the cub Standish or Tanner?" The elegant man asked never glancing at his notes. _I need to have words with my staff if something like this slipped past them. Must be one of the ones he trained and never made the team. _

"Tanner, Devin James, Sergeant, Weapons Specialist/Sniper/Scout," the colonel said maliciously. "It appears you missed one . . . sir. 'The Falcon' is very alive."

Long fingers clenched, shattering the centuries old porcelain. "Falcon is dead."

"Was a body recovered?" the colonel asked.

"Ellison can't watch him 24/7," the unknown man's cultured tone had developed a ragged edge.

"No, but Tanner's team can," the colonel answered.

"Pull out, I'll handle this myself. Destroy that cell phone and contact me later from base," the unknown man ordered.

"Yes, sir," the colonel responded in relief. "I will contact you from the base. This phone is being wiped and destroyed."


	13. Chapter 13

Seacouver General Hospital

mid-morning

"This is not a frat party. Leave now, before I call security and have you removed," Nursing Supervisor C. Beth Starling barked. "Getting my patients all worked up. These men have just had major surgery, they need to be resting."

Vin jerked out of his light doze. Instinctively the injured man tried to dive to safety only to be brought to an abrupt halt by the immobilizing hardware. Ezra sat up straight in his own bed, woken from his peaceful nap. For once the mask was gone and fear could easily be seen on the Southerner's face.

Starling's tirade came to an abrupt halt when she found herself staring down the bore of not one, but three guns. The only reason there weren't five was that JD and Buck had gone to the cafeteria and weren't in the room.

"Josiah, toss that idiot's ass out. Find out who the hell she is, she isn't cleared to be in here," Chris snarled as he turned to Tanner and dropped his tone to a soothing murmur. Quickly holstering his gun he reached for Tanner. "Shit, basin now," Larabee ordered as he supported Vin. He never flinched as Tanner vomited all down his chest.

Nathan handed Chris a basin before turning to Starling. Getting the woman out of the room so he could check on his teammates was his only concern. Holstering his own gun he stalked toward the nurse.

Josiah, moved protectively between Ezra and the harridan. A big hand came to rest comfortingly on Standish's calf. "I'm not going anywhere son, go back to sleep," Josiah promised. _Best put this away before she tempts the preacher anymore. _Josiah slid his own weapon into its holster.

"Starling, get a real nurse in here now and have these men's doctors contacted immediately. No telling what kind of damage you've just caused," Nathan growled dangerously as he joined Josiah.

"I am the nursing supervisor for this floor," Starling snarled recovering herself now that the weapons were no longer in evidence. "Those are my patients and I'm ordering you off this floor. Guns aren't allowed in this hospital."

Nathan and Josiah each grabbed an arm and frog marched the woman out of the room.

"I am **Doctor** Nathan Jackson and these men are in protective custody. That means we're armed and will remain so. You are not on the list of cleared personnel. Get the hospital administrator up here to meet with me in 10 minutes. I can't believe they'd put someone in charge that doesn't have the sense to come in out of the rain. I know it's on Tanner's records to introduce yourself before approaching him, I wrote it in myself. Woman, if you've caused any kind of damage I'm going to have you up on charges," Nathan snarled before turning back to his injured teammates.

"You heard the man, get the doctors and the hospital administrator in here pronto!" H ordered as he and Rafe stood protectively in the doorway.

"I'm sorry she got past us while we were running off some news reporter," Rafe explained sheepishly. "It won't happen again."

Lobby

"What is that?" Duncan MacLeod hissed to his companions as they stepped into the lobby. "It doesn't feel right to be an immortal." MacLeod tried to determine what had caused the 'tingle' that was somewhat similar to the touch of a quickening, the essence that was responsible for immortality.

"Shaman," Methos grunted. His eyes locked on the solidly built man walking toward the doors.

The dark eyed man studied the trio as he approached. The still raven dark hair indicated the purity of his Native American heritage since he was well past the 50 year mark, quite possibly considerably more. Something about his carriage screamed career military to the immortals.

"Not an officer," Connor smirked.

"No this one was a sergeant . . . a drill sergeant or something of that nature. Shaman's are born teachers," Methos agreed.

"He doesn't feel like Coltec," Duncan muttered.

"James Coltec was an immortal as well as a shaman. This man is not immortal," Methos reminded.

"Greetings Grandfathers." the unknown shaman stopped to face the immortals.

"Greetings Rabbi," Adam acknowledged the other man.

"The old stories speak of men such as you. The others have discovered that Falcon lives," the shaman informed the three immortals softly.

"Men like us? Who are they and . . .?" Duncan demanded only to be cut off.

"Falcon? You mean Tanner?" Methos interrupted. _Why must they always speak in riddles? _

"Keep the Singer safe, Old Father," the stranger ordered softly.

"Who do I keep him safe from?" Methos demanded. _Just one day it would be nice for one of these 'Wise Men' to walk up and say Joe Cool needs killing before he destroys the world. _

"You will know them. Lift your light high**,** Grandfather," the shaman nodded faintly before slipping past them and out the door.

_Off to save the world. _Methos' lips twitched into a faint smile. _Well, you did want to get out of your rut, old man. _

"Well that was different," Duncan grumbled as he followed the other immortals across the lobby to the elevator. The elevator light lit for the lobby, the doors opened and a body fell to the floor.

"But I didn't do it," Methos protested as the MacLeods turned to stare at him.

"Best we make this look good," Connor squatted down to check for a pulse.

"It's a bit obvious he's dead," Methos snorted. "He's looking at his own arse."

"Silencer," Connor indicated the small caliber handgun still clenched in the corpse's fist. "Lad you might want to report this to the lady over at the information desk."

"Why do I get to report it?" Duncan demanded.

"You're the youngest," Methos sniffed.

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"No, I didn't touch anything," Methos sighed as he gave his statement to yet another police officer, this time a woman detective. "**P-I-E-R-S-O-N**, Adam Pierson . . . No, I never made the gentleman's acquaintance until the lift's doors opened . . . No I'm not from around here . . . Wales . . . What was I . . . **visiting **some guests who . . . dropped in on MacLeod . . . No, the other MacLeod. I have no intention of leaving town . . . MacLeod's refrigerator is full of **MY** beer."

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"A newspaperman?" Connor snorted.

"Assassin, if I'm any judge," Methos grunted. _The wolves are already circling._

"Think he was after Tanner?" Connor asked.

"Want to bet he wasn't?" Methos questioned.

"This will not be the last time the police will be asking questions," Duncan groaned as the three men were finally allowed to leave. Deciding against the elevator after their recent trouble they headed for the stairs.

"They'll be calling on us soon," Connor agreed as he held open the stairwell door. "How is it I should be telling young Johnnie Dunne that Graham Nash didna die and that his real name is Connor MacLeod, when it's paddlings he got for lying to me?"

"You spanked him? For shame Connor MacLeod. Lying is a survival skill," Methos said.

"I only did it to encourage him to lie better," Connor snickered.

Duncan MacLeod glared at the other two immortals. "You're both without shame."

"You're right. I lost mine . . . Caligula? Hmmmm . . . before then. Ramses the first, no before that. Sodom and Gamorah? No, I'm fairly certain it was before then . . . hummm come to think of it I don't believe I ever had any," Methos said unrepentantly.

"Ramerez knocked mine out of me when he trained me, said such foolishness would get me killed," Connor mused.

"Too bad you didn't teach Duncan that," Methos ignored the scowling Duncan and addressed the older MacLeod.

"Too stubborn for his own good," Connor sighed sadly and shook his head. "We're here," Connor announced reaching the third floor.

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_We got lucky this time. Everything held and neither of them are headed back to surgery. _Josiah repositioned the blanket over the sleeping Standish. _Ezra wouldn't settle 'til Vin did. Both of them are hurting a lot worse than__they're admitting._

Chris frowned as Vin woke from a disturbed nap with a low angry snarl.

//Tanner?// "Vin?" Chris spoke before laying a calming hand on the tense shoulder. //What's wrong, Pard?//

//Something strange . . . not right . . . feels wrong.// "Somethin's comin'," Vin growled, his head turned toward the door. //Dangerous and I cain't pertect none of yah.//

"Heads up guys, there's trouble headed our way," Larabee warned.

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"Can I help you gentlemen?" H Brown moved protectively in front of the hospital room door when the three strangers exited the stairwell.

"Hello," Connor smiled sweetly. _Should have realized that Larabee would have security. _

H stood with one hand on his gun. Wordlessly the three immortals raised their hands in surrender.

"Don't be shooting," Connor said his Scottish accent seemed much stronger than normal. "We're the good guys."

"You're the good guys?" H's lips twitched. "Now, I'm really scared. MacLeod?"

"Aye," Connor and Duncan chorused.

"Different vintages," Connor said cheerfully, noting Brown's confused look.

"You?" H asked Methos quietly.

"I'm the straight man," Methos sniffed.

"It was my cabin that Larabee's team dropped in on," Duncan explained. "We wanted to check on them, if it would be alright?"

"Sure, they wanted to say thanks for everything you guys did. Just for safety's sake . . . can I see some ID?" H requested.

_I need to talk to Blair, there's something about these three that has every hair standing on end. _H worriedly studied the three men.

The Hospital room door opened and Buck Wilmington stepped out cautiously. "Hi Duncan."

"Hey Chris, stand down, it's our saviors," Buck called back over his shoulder.

"Wanted to thank you boys for everything you did for us," Buck smiled warmly, extending a big hand.

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"Chris," Vin hissed.

"They're a bit unique but I'd let 'em be our back up anytime," Chris reassured the tense Texan. "Connor and Adam were the ones that guided Nate and I to you. Duncan helped Buck ride herd on Ez, Josiah, and JD. We kind of . . . crashed Connor's birthday party."

The low growling stopped but Tanner didn't relax as Buck led the strangers into the room.

"Nothing for it but to face the music, Connor," Duncan grinned widely and pushed his kinsman into the hospital room.

"Peace, Singer, no harm mean we to you or yours," Methos spoke directly to Vin. Carefully the immortal laid a restraining hand on Duncan's arm halting the younger man's approach.

Worried looks flashed from Buck, JD, Ezra and Josiah to Nathan and Chris at Adam Pierson's words.

"Calm down guys, our hosts have no intention of causing trouble for us," Larabee calmed.

Vin Tanner lay still and studied the strangers, marking the unusual 'feel' of the immortals.

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Looking back toward Pierson and the MacLeods, JD's eyes widened and he stared speechlessly as the figure in the doorway registered.

"JD?" Buck growled protectively.

"He's **dead**. Buck, how bad did I hit my head" JD protested shakily, staring wide-eyed at Connor.

"Nay Laddie, the rumors of my death are greatly exaggerated," Connor soothed.

"But I **saw** you die!" JD hissed.

"Calm down Johnnie, ye'll be making yourself sick." Connor moved over and knelt down so that JD wasn't looking up at him. "Let me be telling you a story . . . ."

"Let him talk Buck," Chris laid a restraining hand on Wilmington's arm as the dark haired scoundrel growled protectively, preparing to toss Connor MacLeod out of the room.

"Don't tell me you believe the line of crap he's telling JD?" Buck snarled.

"Yes, I do," Chris answered. _I didn't know Buck could turn his head all the way around like that. Like something out of the exorcist. _Chris mused mischievously.

Buck angled his stance so that he could see his friend as well as keep an eye on Connor MacLeod. "You do?"

"Saw Pierson get shot very dead, **twice**, Nathan didn't take it well. He found it . . . disturbing, dead people not staying dead like they're supposed to," Chris chuckled. "Nathan doesn't handle the abnormal well. He broke MacLeod's jaw."

"That guy is really . . . **IMMORTAL?**" Buck hissed in disbelief.

"Him and Pierson at least. I figure the other MacLeod is as well." Chris was enjoying watching Buck's reaction.

//I haven't had so much fun since you put hair remover in Buck's cream rinse.// Chris 'told' Tanner.

//Guess bein' immortal is what makes 'em give off tha 'tingle'.// Vin mused. //Chris, the hair remover wasn't me. I figure that was somethin' a chemist might do though.//

**"Nathan?"** Larabee squeaked.

//Yep, think 'Siah put him up to it though.// Vin smirked.

"You need something Chris?" Nathan asked.

"Do you need to call Raine?" Chris covered over his outburst.

"Yeah, she'll want an update on Rhett Butler and Robin Hood." Nathan glanced at his watch before reaching for his phone.

"Robin Hood Ah can understand," Ezra sniffed glancing toward Vin Tanner. "But Ah am in no way Rhett Butler . . . the man was a Damyankee," the southerner protested.

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_The Singer is safe with his pack. _Methos smiled faintly at the rightness of these seven men together.

Tanner kept drowsing off and waking with a pained jerk.

The oldest of the immortals frowned at the tense figure. _The boy needs to rest. I'd think he'd be deep in a healing sleep now that he's back with his pack and they're all safe. That's what Tannah did anyway. _

Vin woke fighting the hardware restraining him. A bout of painful vomiting finally ended the physical struggle but it took long minutes for Nathan and Chris to settle the spooked man.

"Is there something that we can do?" Duncan asked helplessly.

"I am an idiot," Methos growled and stalked over to examine the chart hanging at the end of Tanner's bed.

"You know something that'll help?" Nathan asked hopefully. _He's had some advice that sure was helpful earlier._

"You can't give a Guardian this . . . this . . . poison," Methos growled. _They could have killed him. _

"Poison? What kind of poison? I didn't see anything on that chart that should hurt him," Nathan protested.

"**Opiates, **hell almost any kind of a painkiller. Almost **anything** that will suppress pain effects his senses," Methos snapped.

"We can't just let him lay there in pain," Chris growled back.

"So what do you use on a hurt Sentinel?" Josiah asked calmly, his soothing voice bringing peace to the overcharged atmosphere.

_By now you'd think I'd have learned that a Guide is as dangerous as his Guardian. _Methos moved carefully, returning the chart to its hook. _Larabee is the one I have to convince. Jackson has too much medical training to get around._

"A simple muscle relaxer," Adam answered, holding up his hand to cut off Nathan's protest. "I know, it goes against everything you were taught. Vin Tanner is . . . unique. His responses are so far out of normal ranges that you're almost treating . . . a different **species**. _More truth to that then they realize. _

Chris scowled at the IV going into Tanner's arm. "Nate?"

"Don't know, Chris, how up to date on medicine is this fella?" Nathan growled.

"Ain't I got any say?" Tanner demanded.

"I'm not going to let you hurt yourself," Nathan said firmly.

"Any reason I cain't go on a pain pump?" Vin questioned calmly.

"Because you won't use it when you need too," Nathan growled.

"You've pushed the button before," Vin reminded.

Nathan looked sheepish. "Ain't gonna apologize for it neither."

"Will a muscle relaxer mess any of these doohickeys or meds up?" Vin asked.

Nathan scowled a moment. "A mild one shouldn't," he finally admitted.

"Rekin it might help with the Charlie Horses in mah left leg?" Vin questioned.

"Charlie Horses?" Chris demanded glancing at the metal frame work. _Shit, there's no way to rub his leg._

"We can't rub his leg. Could break a blood clot loose and kill him," Nathan sighed.

"Nate contact the doctor and see if we can get Vin on a pain pump and a muscle relaxant," Chris ordered.

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2 hours later

Tanner snored faintly in his hospital bed. The pain and tension had eased revealing how startling young the sleeper truly was.

"The man didn't even say I told you so," Nathan huffed when Methos slipped out of the room to join his friends.

"He didn't need too," Josiah chuckled faintly.

"Ain't that a beautiful sight," Buck crooned and tucked a long fingered hand under the blanket. "Shh now, Vin's sleeping real deep, you grab some shuteye while you can," he whispered in Chris' ear.

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_Guardian? More than five hundred years since I even heard a whisper of one and now two of them in the same number of days? Why do I feel that this isn't a good thing. A Singer and now this one. Don't get ahead of yourself old man, Tanner might not chose to be __**the Singer **__. . . yeah and I'm not . . . __**however**__ old I really am, it's not like we kept calendars back then. _Methos smiled faintly at the animated young man talking with the Guardian. The ancient immortal's eyes narrowed as he carefully slipped past the mismatched pair in the lobby and out a side door. He breathed a sigh of relief having successfully avoided the Watchman's attention.

_Shaman! So this Guardian found his Companion, how fortunate for him. _Methos breathed a sigh of relief**;** most unbonded Sentinels self-destructed without the balancing effect of a Companion. _I really need to look at some of the old watcher journals on Loughlin. Wasn't Bedwyr_ his watcher? He might have written something about Art-ur, Myrddin Emrys and Medraut before that conniving Gwenhwyfar set them at each others throats. Wouldn't the historians have a fit if they knew Arthur Pendragon was a real person . . . a Scot of all things . . . Strange . . . I wonder if Art-ur was related to Tannah and this boy. The kings of Gwynedd all had roots back to Strathclyde, it's not that large of a region . . . **Hell! **it must be something in the water, the MacLeods are from Loch Shiel. It's all the same damn place.

**Author's note:**

Loughlin-Sir Lancelot for the purposes of this story I've indicated he was an immortal.

Art-ur variation of Arthur

Myrddin Emrys-Merlanus Ambrosius- Merlin, King Arthur's councillor possibly a druid or bard.

_Medraut- _Sir Mordred, Arthur's son-the christian church considered him the product of an incestus relationship between Arthur and his half-sister Morgause, known as Anna in earlier stories. By Welsh law of the period he would have been legitimate having been acknowledged by Arthur.

Gwenhwyfar- Guinivere

Pendragon- Welsh for red dragon

Strathclyde was a welsh speaking kingdom in the South-west of Scotland

There are several well respected researchers who believe that Arthur may well have been a Scot.


	14. Chapter 14

Dragon's Nest

Sunset

Methos sat patiently on the shelf leading to the cavern. An unusual scent and a faint rustling, then a few barely heard clicks.

_Do the stars shine bright tonight?_

"No, Old One the stars are dim tonight," Methos answered softly in a language that hadn't been spoken since before man had made tools of bronze.

_The Huntsman?_

"The healers say he will recover," Methos responded.

_It is well. Another age is coming to a close. The Singer is needed._

"What would you have me do?" Methos asked.

_Offer him your weapon and the heart that goes with it, Champion._

"Not me, that's MacLeod's job," Methos responded.

_Did you think there is but one Champion? _The amused 'voice' asked.

"Come on, do I look like some . . . Boy Scout to you?" Methos protested. "Rushing in swinging a sword to save the world. That is MacLeod's kind of thing."

_The boy and his pack will be bad enough. You have lived long enough to have gained a few grains of wisdom. It is your job to council patience and stealth. _There was a definite chuckle underlying the words. _Better you than me._

"Will it be enough?" Methos asked.

_No, I fear it will not be enough. The darkness rises once more. Yet another age must pass before men will seek the stars. When the Beloved falls, bring the children to me so that they survive the coming chaos. _The 'tone' changed revealing an ancient grief. _Such brightness to fade so quickly. _

"Wouldn't it be best to leave them with his pack?" Methos demanded.

_Think you that they will survive the loss? Give him this when the time is right, that he might awaken to his duty. _

Methos sighed deeply and stood realizing he was once more alone on the peak.

Seacouver General Hospital

10 am pacific time

"Do you think something's wrong?" JD asked worriedly.

"His vitals look good JD. He's simply sleeping," Nathan reassured. "Best thing for him."

"Did they sedate him?" Ezra mused**,** studying Tanner.

"Nope, you better believe that I'm updating Vin's medical records. A mild muscle relaxer and he's out like a light," Nathan chuckled.

"Do you want me to come back later?" Amos Simpson, Vin's doctor asked softly. The doctor was doing rounds and had just come to the doorway.

"Come on in, he's waking up now," Nathan said. "Stranger's voice must have registered."

Vin hissed as he tried to find a less painful position. "Hey Doc, when can I get out of here?"

A chorus of groans filled the air and cash was passed to the smirking Ezra. "Thank you ever so much for your donations to the Standish retirement fund."

"How are you feeling?" Simpson asked shaking his head at the men's antics.

"Been better," Vin admitted.

"You haven't been taking your pain meds." Simpson scowled at Tanner's chart.

"Didn't need 'em," Vin answered, before yawning widely.

"I find that hard to believe," Simpson snorted. "You're one big bruise."

"He slept 14 hours," Nathan spoke up.

"Without pain meds?"

"Without pain meds," Nathan assured the other man.

Simpson gave Nathan a disbelieving look before continuing, "The ophthalmologist will be in shortly to check on your eyes. Have you made some type of arrangements for when you're released?"

"Released?" Vin asked excitedly.

"Are you crazy?" Nathan barked.

"Unless Vin starts running a fever or has some other type set back, the insurance company wants him out no later then day after tomorrow," Simpson reported bitterly.

"The man just had major surgery," Josiah protested.

"I know**,** believe me, I know. I've tried everything," Simpson answered. "There are several very good nursing homes in the area."

"Nursing home?" Vin spluttered.

"It's not as if I can send you back to Denver. I won't clear you to fly this soon after surgery," Simpson tried to explain.

"Travis is letting us 'recover' from our little adventure but we're expected back at work Monday morning." Larabee gently grasped Vin's forearm in a calming manner.

"They ain' gonna let Ez fly after lung surgery," Vin reminded quietly.

"Shit."

"What if we rent a vehicle and drive back?" JD suggested.

"Sitting in a car for any length of time is out of the question. Vin's legs need to be elevated," Simpson reminded.

Soft curses filled the air.

"What if Vin could lay down?"

"That far by ambulance? It would make him an easy target," Chris reminded. All their sources and Ellison's indicated there was a sizeable hit out on the sharpshooter for some reason.

"Cascade's closer," Buck suggested.

"Vin's still a target." Chris shook his head.

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"Tanner is under our protection as well, Watchman." Adam stated determinedly as he and Connor faced off with the protective Jim Ellison.

"What are you?" Ellison demanded. _H is right there's something . . . different about these two. _

Blair paled a bit when Adam's words registered. _They know Jim's a sentinel . . . damn ._

"These guys feel weird," Jim whispered to Blair**,** never taking his eyes off of the potential enemies.

"Certainly no threat," Connor grinned.

"I have a long standing debt owed to the Tanners," Adam explained calmly. "I have every intention of making certain that boy survives."

Jim thoughtfully studied the two men. _Either they're telling the truth or they're the best liars I've ever run across. _"You still didn't tell me **what **you are."

"I'm Connor MacLeod of the clan MacLeod . . . ," Connor began.

Methos rolled his eyes as Connor began his spiel. _That gets so . . . irritating. One of these days I won't be able to help myself and I'll knife one of the MacLeods just to shut them up for a while. Amanda's done it and got away with it. _

"OH!" Blair's eyes widened. "He's the Highlander," Blair blurted excitedly. "Oh wow . . . I mean . . . Man it's . . . he's real."

"Of course they're real," Jim growled. _Come on Blair I don't need you to go off on a tangent right now. _

"Do you remember the movie Highlander?" Blair asked.

"Sure, good sound track, some great supporting actors. It would have been better if the star wasn't blind and had been able to speak English," Ellison grunted. _Come on Chief get to the point. _

Methos turned to glare at Connor slapping him on the back of the head. "Idiot."

"How was I to know that she was a screen writer?" Connor protested.

"It was a good thing I was able to doctor the script and cover for you," Methos growled. "Only the really disturbed found it believable.

"He's immortal?" Jim hissed to Blair in disbelief.

Methos cursed softly pulled a knife from his sleeve and slashed MacLeod's hand drawing blood. Blair shook Jim when it seemed the sentinel was going to zone on Connor's healing hand.

"You enjoyed that entirely too much," Connor grumbled staring at his hand.

Methos cocked his head thoughtfully. "You're right." He grinned impishly.

"I think both of them are," Blair beamed at the immortal pair thrilled to have discovered something new.

"How old is this debt?" Jim demanded.

Methos hesitated a moment. _No lying to a watchman even by__ omission__. _"Since the third crusade."

"King Richard and Saladin?" Blair squeaked.

"You're here to guard Tanner?" Jim demanded.

"Yes."

"I'm not turning away any help. Was the body in the elevator your work?" Ellison asked.

"No, he wasn't."

"So there's still some players out there that we don't know about," Blair said thoughtfully.

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"Go home**,** Capt'n**.** Sounds like the shit hit the fan back in Cascade. I got the guys ta take care of me, the MacLeods and company**,** plus we got U.S. Marshalls on top of that," Vin ordered Ellison. Jim was hesitant about leaving his cub but duty was calling him back to Cascade.

"You'll call me if you need me?" Jim demanded.

"Yeah, Captain I'll call," Tanner promised.

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A pile of dressings lay discarded on the table.

"Keep your eyes closed until I tell you to open them," Doctor Black ordered. Gently she lifted the pads off. "Alright now open them."

"Ain't you a sight for sore eyes." Vin blinked several times. "Beautiful as your voice."

"Thank you," Melissa Black flushed brightly under the intense sapphire gaze.

"Golden hair and my, my eyes of cornflower blue. Heaven must have gone missin' itself an angel," Vin flirted.

"Nate, what kind of meds is Scruffy on?" Buck demanded. A teasing grin greeted Tanner's scowl.

"Bucklin, go for a walk cain't yah see I'm workin' here," Vin ordered.

"You . . . are tempting, **very** tempting and I am so **very **married," the doctor laughed.

"He's a mighty lucky man," Tanner said seriously and sighed deeply. "Just my luck . . . yah got a sister?"

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"Must be the concussion." Buck scowled at the sleeping Tanner.

"What do you mean?" Chris asked softly.

"You ever see Vin flirt like that?" Buck snorted.

"Can't say I ever did," Chris admitted.

"Mr. Tanner was attracted to her scent," Ezra revealed.

"Them pheromone things Blair was warning us about?" Buck looked intrigued.

"Yes, although Mr. Tanner didn't seem to react in the same manner as Mr. Ellison," Ezra said thoughtfully.

"Doctor Black didn't encourage him," Chris reminded.

"So Junior backed off," Buck mused thoughtfully.

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"I hate all these options," Chris growled staring down at the brochures for short term nursing facilities.

"We'd have to use a private plane even if Vin and Ezra would be allowed to fly home," Josiah sighed.

"They can't fly for at least two weeks. I'd prefer a month to six weeks," Nathan said flatly.

"Any reason we couldn't drive?" JD asked.

"Too hard on them and Vin's legs need to be propped up. The longer they stay in a down position the more likely there'd be damage. He'd be in a hell of a lot of pain," Nathan explained.

Gloomy looks were exchanged.

"Maybe rent a house or something. We can take turns flying in to take care of them." Josiah sighed unhappily.

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Joe's Blues Club

"Joseph, my old friend," Methos called cheerfully as he entered the bar.

"What do you want Pierson?" Joe Dawson, Duncan MacLeod's watcher, snarled but the twinkle in his eyes proved it was all for show. _Old man won't give me a straight answer. I'd love to know if he really set up the Watchers. Be just like him to have set up a secret __organization__ to keep tabs on his competition. Now I wonder how I can bribe or blackmail him into letting me see the Methos Chronicles and find out just what he was doing way back when. _

"Beer my good man," Adam settled bonelessly onto the bar stool.

"And?" Joe slid a filled mug down the bar.

"Put it on MacLeod's tab, Dad," Methos grinned.

"Dad?" _Watch your step, the old man is piling it deep. _"Not hardly," Joe snorted. "First off Mac has cut you off and second I'd have taken one look at you and drowned you at birth."

"You hurt me Joe," Methos sighed dramatically and lay a hand over his broken heart.

"You'll heal," Joe reminded.

"Truthfully, I've come to pick your mind and the watcher database." Methos turned serious.

Joe Dawson scowled at the innocently blinking man on the other side of the bar. "While you were pretending to be your own watcher you set up the computer system. Don't tell me you can't hack it."

"Shameful the way they've let things go. They've uploaded less than a third of the records since I left," Methos grumbled.

"And?" Joe demanded. _Has to be important for the old man to ask a favor like this. He wouldn't take a chance on getting me killed by some fanatical watcher._

"Loughlin Knight," Methos said.

"Why the interest? Best I remember he died in the 2nd World War," Dawson asked.

"I want to see what his watcher had to say about Art-ur Pen Draig-en and his son," Methos sighed.

"Who?" Joe demanded.

"A war leader in Strathclyde, Scotland. You'd know him better as King Arthur." Methos studied his empty beer mug and held it out.

"You're kidding? Loughlin Knight? Talk," Joe ordered as refilled the mug then went back to work prepping the bar for the evening.

"There is some truth to the old legends. Loughlin was Sir Lancelot.

"Was King Arthur an immortal?" Joe asked quietly.

"No, not immortal," Adam muttered. "But he was special alright."

"You're going to have to give me a better reason then that," Joe said**,** determinedly.

"Arthur was a Watchman." Methos sighed.

"What's that?" Joe frowned.

"A Sentinel," Methos said seriously.

"You mean like that man all over the news a while back?" Joe scowled. "Didn't that college student say he lied about it?"

"Yes and Yes, but Sandburg wasn't lying about Sentinels. I've met five and heard of several more."

"Like King Arthur . . . was Mordred a Sentinel too?"

Methos nodded.

"Why the sudden interest?" Joe asked.

"I suppose MacLeod told you about Connor's birthday party," Methos leaned forward placing his elbows on the bar.

"Yeah he told me about the excitement," Dawson shook his head in disbelief. _Only MacLeod . . . or the old man. _

"One of them is a sentinel and I'm sure he's the descendent of one I met a long time ago. He did me a good turn. I'd like to return the favor," Methos explained. "Anything I can turn up on how to deal with the senses might save his life."

"Alright, I'll get the chronicles for you," Joe said.

"I need some advice as well," Methos continued. "It seems our unexpected guests are in a bit of a dilemma. There is a hit out on at least one of the team members and they want to get their injured back to their own territory where they can protect them better," Methos explained.

"So, what's the problem?" Joe looked over.

"The injured can't fly after surgery. They need to be able to lie down. Tanner has some kind of torture device on his leg that needs to stay elevated." Methos continued. "An ambulance would be far too easy to track. A box truck might work but I doubt it would be a comfortable way to travel."

"How about one of those one piece campers? It would be a lot more comfortable," Joe suggested. "Bathroom and kitchen available at all times and there are beds for the injured.

Methos blinked and shook his head. "It never crossed my mind. It makes a good deal of sense those things are all over the roads this time of year."

"Those things aren't built for wheelchairs. Could have a problem getting the injured loaded and unloaded," Joe warned.

"How about a vacation Dad," Methos asked sweetly. "I mean you're not getting any younger and you did promise to take us kids to see the Grand Canyon. Surely you're not going to let us down are you?"

Joe chuckled. "Does this mean you want me to go look at campers with you? Why not ask Mac?"

"Because I wouldn't be able to resist leaving the impression that Duncan and I are playing house," Methos grinned impishly. "He gets so flustered, besides he's a horrible liar. You have a much better idea of what won't work than I do," the old immortal admitted.

"You only love me for my legs," the double amputee teased knowing that Methos would take it in the manner it was intended, at times it was such a relief having someone that treated him so nonchalantly. Joe limped down the bar and leaned down pulling out a phone book. "Let's see what's available."

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Camper City

"You ever drive something this big?" Joe asked thoughtfully staring at the enormous motor homes.

"I drove a semi truck for two years back in the '70's," Methos admitted.

"When are you going to let me read the Methos chronicles?" Joe asked.

Methos studied the campers without comment. _Never, Joseph my dear friend. Should I tell him about the __**Huntsman**__? There is commentary about the watchmen although most of the watchers didn't recognize them as such. Hell, I do believe I'll tell Joe about why one never gets a Sentinel mad at you. _

"May I help you?" A salesman appeared at Joe's elbow as if by magic.

"Do you rent these things?" Joe waved at the campers. "I want to try one out before I shell out that kind of money for something I can't use."

"We have several units that we do rent." The salesman remained professional but you could see the disappointment in his eyes.

"Dad has some mobility issues," Methos said softly.

The salesman's eyes lingered on the cane in the silver haired man's hand.

"I'm an amputee. There are times that I use a wheel chair," Joe explained calmly.

"Oh! That will be an issue. Only custom RV's are laid out for wheel chair accessibility." The salesman's eyes darted trying not to offend a potential customer by staring or something equally as rude.

"Look in my face kid, just like anyone else," Joe chuckled. _It's a pain in the ass dealing with this shit but if some of the 'militant' handicapped took the time to explain things instead of __automatically__ confronting people, the world would be easier to get along in. Most people are decent, just dumb. _

"I'm sorry that was rude of me," the salesman sighed. "I never have been sure what proper manners are in this situation. I've had my head snapped off for holding a door and cussed out for not helping as well."

"Neither do I," Joe admitted. "Depends on the handicapped person I guess. You're going to be wrong sometimes no matter what you do. Just try and treat people like you'd like to be treated and don't let the jerks get to you."

"Denny Dever," the salesman introduced himself holding out a hand.

"Joe Dawson and my boy Adam," Joe introduced himself and Methos offhandedly.

Joe sighed as he carefully exited the third camper. "You'd have to take a window out to get a stretcher in to that one."

"That's all the rental units we have. If you were interested in buying one . . . " Denny sighed. "Mr. Tolliver! Now where did I put that number . . . Here it is. This gentleman wants sell his camper and he might be willing to rent it to you. It was custom designed, even has hand controls for driving as well. Mrs. Tolliver was in a wheel chair. Now that she's gone he's decided to go live near their kids in Oklahoma. Poor man can't even bring himself to go in the thing."

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3 hours later

"Handicapped accessible and it sleeps 12. What do you think?" Dawson waved at the motor home.

"I think you're a genius," Nathan Jackson smiled widely. "Surely you didn't buy this thing just for Vin and Ezra did you?

"Testing, with an option to buy," Methos answered calmly.

"We'll drop it off in Oklahoma in two weeks if I decide against it," Joe soothed. _Never did see the Grand Canyon, wonder if I can guilt the old man into coming along. _

"Let me look around in there and see what arrangements I need to make," Nathan said. _Wonder if I can get Travis to get one of these things. _

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Seacouver Hospital

Vin and Ezra's room

"Pierson, why are you doing all this?" Chris demanded.

"Let's call it a long standing debt shall we," Methos answered.

"Only thing I can see might be a problem is getting Ez and Vin out without being seen," Josiah reminded.

"An old favorite, the shell game?" Ezra smirked.

"Ambulance ride to the nursing home. Somewhere in transit we can make the switch," Buck said cheerfully. _Get the boys back home where they belong. I wasn't sure how we were going to do it but we'd have played hell before leaving the boys behind._

"You're not going. I won't take civilians into what might end up as a fire fight."

"Connor and I are going. We aren't exactly your normal citizens," Methos reminded. "Joseph on the other hand.

"You're not bringing Duncan?" Nathan frowned.

"He's no fun on a road trip," Connor sniffed. "A bit of a wet blanket."

Joe Dawson studied his cane a long moment before speaking. "You've forgotten something. That monster doesn't move without me . . . I rented it remember**;** besides my boys reminded me I never took them to see the Grand Canyon."


	15. Chapter 15

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On the Road

2 days later

Chris stared out the window as the motor home rolled down the dark highway. _I'm still dizzy. How many times did we switch Vin and Ezra around anyway? Glad those three are on our side. What one doesn't think of the other ones will. Ezra is going to keep his mouth shut about treating him with proper decorum in the future. Wonder which one of them decided to move him in a hearse? Bet Buck and Nate were in on it . . __. _

Vin's eyes blinked open, looking around a moment he smiled warmly. Chris Larabee slept peacefully as they rolled along. _'Bout time. Cain't breathe with Chris hangin' over me that way. Gotta hang on ta mah temper, ain't tha fellas fault I'm trapped this way. Just want ta stop hurtin' fer a little while is all._

"Yah alright?" Vin asked softly when Ezra sat up carefully.

"I need to make use of the facilities. Could I bring you something on my return?" Ezra asked just as softly trying not to wake Larabee.

"A new back? Laying flat this way ain' . . . good."

Ezra sighed helplessly. _I would if I could._

"Didn't think so, some water would be good," Vin sighed deeply.

"What are you gentlemen doing awake?" Adam asked in concern.

"Slept out," Vin muttered.

"Bathroom." Ezra eased past. "Who's driving this monstrosity?" Standish asked in concern.

"Connor, he is qualified I assure you," Adam soothed.

The immortal checked Vin's legs carefully. "Would you care to sit up awhile?"

"In here?" Vin looked longingly toward the front of the camper where the others were gathered.

"I was thinking about up front so you wouldn't disturb Mr. Larabee. The swelling in your legs is down. I imagine your back is a bit sore staying in one position for so long," Methos suggested.

"I'd appreciate it," Vin answered.

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"You knew what you were doing." Joe Dawson nodded at the wheelchair once Vin was positioned at the table. "Takes experience to get in one of those things with the use of one arm that way."

"Been in one before. Hate the damn things," Vin admitted.

"Stop hovering would you. It only makes the helpless feelings worse," Joe ordered Nathan quietly.

Nathan grimaced and backed away.

"Know what you mean, kid. It's one of the reasons I was so determined to walk again. That and feeling like a little kid having to look up at every one," Joe slid a cup of coffee in front of Tanner. "They said you like it strong and sweet."

Vin sipped the coffee and smiled. "Damn, somebody that can make decent coffee."

"You wouldn't know a decent cup of coffee if you tasted one," Buck snorted.

"Are you two hungry?" Nathan asked when Ezra joined them at the table.

"Peckish," Vin admitted.

"Nothing for me," Ezra said.

"I saw the way you looked at the coffee pot. Would you care to join me in a cup of tea?" Adam asked.

"Yes, please."

Joe looked in disbelief at Vin's empty plate some fifteen minutes later. "I'm glad he wasn't hungry."

"That was a **light** snack," Ezra responded.

"High metabolism, must be something to do with their senses. All the Sentinels I met were the same," Adam said offhandedly.

"Been sitting up long enough," Nathan ordered gently.

"Reckin so, 'bout ta fall asleep in mah plate," Vin admitted.

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"He's sleeping," Nathan announced. "Thanks for telling us about the muscle relaxers."

"I'm glad they're helping." Adam nodded.

"So you've met Sentinels before?" Josiah asked thoughtfully.

"Yes."

Joe chuckled as Adam became the center of attention. _The teacher and the storyteller, he looks so . . . right._

"Could you tell us about them?" JD sat up on the bunk he had been resting on. His tousled hair and bright eyes made him look all of eight years old.

"There are different types of Sentinels. Primes seem to end up in positions to protect their tribe. Firemen, police, military. . . All five senses enhanced to the point they need the support of a guide to help them survive. Very protective of their guide's territory. Amazing abilities but so unbending, a very rigid code of honor. They see things in black and white and are pretty close minded. Ellison is a prime. A Singer like Tanner isn't a Sentinel at all. They're enhanced guides . . . empaths with all their senses enhanced. At least the Singer I got to know was. I couldn't prove it but I believe he was a soul healer as well as being one of the most dangerous men I've ever known. I met him in Palestine during the 3rd crusade . . . ," Adam began recounting the story of Vin's forefather.

"Half elf? You really believe that?" Nathan demanded.

"Certainly, of course Hollywood is as accurate there as they are about immortals," Adam snorted.

"You've really met elves?" JD demanded in awe.

"Of course," Adam responded.

"Story time is over, time to hit the sack," Joe Dawson ordered.

"Connor, let me know when you're ready for a break and I'll drive awhile," Buck ordered as he settled onto the bunk across from JD.

"I'm doing that now," Adam spoke up.

Connor pulled over to the side of the road so that Adam could take over.

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"It's hot." Josiah sat a fresh cup of tea down beside Adam. "Deep thoughts?"

"Thank you, a lot of memories," Adam revealed.

"Seems like it would be a lonely life," Josiah said.

"Very much so."

"How does a new immortal learn about your society?" Josiah asked curiously settling into the passenger seat.

"Society? We don't have a society," Adam snorted.

"Sure you do. You obviously have some kind of rules to have kept out of sight all these years," Josiah pointed out.

"Yes," Adam admitted. _A seeker like Sir Josiah, you'll be as hard to lead off the scent as your kinsman. _

"If there are rules then there is a foundation for a society. Immortals have survived thousands of years, ergo there is a functioning society," Josiah smiled widely. "So how do the young ones learn the rules?"

"Normally an older immortal will take them under their wing. Teaching them how to fight, and the . . . rules," Adam chuckled ruefully.

"Was the movie right about the whole not fighting on holy ground?" Josiah asked.

"That is certainly one of the most important," Adam sighed.

"What happens if someone does fight on holy ground?"

"Ever hear of Pompeii?" Adam asked flatly.

"Definitely a good idea _not_ to fight on Holy ground," Josiah muttered. "Since none of you can have children, do your students become your family?"

"In many cases," Adam admitted. Old sorrow showed in the dark eyes.

"Duncan was Connor's student?"

"Yes,"

"So you could say Connor's his father," Josiah looked thoughtful.

"Rameriz was Connor's teacher. He was killed by the Kurgen long ago." _Getting maudlin tonight. It must be seeing so many faces from the past._

"Kind of a lineage then," Josiah mused.

"I suppose you could say that," Adam admitted.

"You were Rameriz's teacher weren't you?" Josiah asked quietly. Adam's hands tightened on the steering wheel. "They don't know do they?"

Adam glanced over. His mask firmly in place. "That would make me old, even for an immortal."

"You don't have many tells as Ezra would say." Josiah looked completely relaxed. "The people that have known you were very fortunate."

"Not hardly," Adam concentrated on the road. "I have killed many."

"Thousands died by your will. How did you find your way back from the darkness?"

_Damn mortals still surprise me. _"A woman I wronged, a Singer and his pack baying for my blood." Adam growled.

"My mother used to say that as long as there was one person that remembered you, you'd never entirely die." Josiah patted Adam's shoulder before heading back to his bed.

Adam cursed softly under his breath in several dead languages. _Worse than Plato wrapping you up in words until __you're __bound tight. _

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Larabee Ranch

"Vin was speaking for all of us, you're welcome anytime. Call us if you need us," Larabee ordered.

"We left contact information. We'll be back," Adam promised. _I'll be here to pick up the pieces if nothing more. Besides I have a gift to deliver. He needs time to heal first. _

Last farewells were said and Adam, Connor and Joe boarded the RV.

"Think they'll really end up going to the Grand Canyon?" Chris asked as the camper pulled down his driveway.

"Yes, they're collecting memories. They're losing a friend," Josiah sighed.

"Joe?" Chris asked sadly.

"What's ten or even fifty years to a man who lives forever?" Josiah reminded.

"How do they stand it," Chris asked.

"By living life to the fullest. The old ones have learned to appreciate **now**. Something most of us never learn."

"Let's get back inside and make some memories," Larabee ordered.

"Some things are best forgotten," Josiah laughed looking at the camper.

Chris blinked in disbelief. "Did he just . . . he did!"

"Congratulations Chris, you may have just been mooned by the oldest butt in the world."


End file.
